


Inevitable

by the_girl_in_the_flower_dress



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agents of SHIELD, Crossover, F/M, Fluff, Marvel Universe, SSR, Season 5 AU, Time Travel, non Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:15:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_girl_in_the_flower_dress/pseuds/the_girl_in_the_flower_dress
Summary: Fitzsimmons find themselves trapped on an alien ship, their only escape option a teleport with illegible runes. They find themselves in 1940s LA and make an unlikely ally, someone who they've looked up to for their entire lives...
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Peggysousa, Steggy, fitzsimmons
Comments: 32
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have to thank my wonderful friend Elodie for giving me the first sparks of imagination for this story, and then for letting me send it to her, piece by piece, and her constant stream of love and encouragement. Des bisous x
> 
> There will be plenty more chapters on the way, so stay tuned if you enjoyed this one and want to find out more

“Fitz!” Jemma shouted, as she felt his hand slip from hers. She tore a glance behind her shoulder to check that he was still there, images of them being ripped apart by the Remorath flashing through her brain. But he was still running, his hand having pulled away from hers for just a second. They rounded a corner, throwing out an arm to stop themselves crashing into the opposite wall, and sprinted down the next corridor. Fear gripped Jemma’s throat at every footstep chasing after them, knowing they had nowhere to go and limited time until they were caught.

Jemma choked out a scream of shock as another group of Remorath appeared in front of them, about ten metres away. They were trapped; Remorath in front and behind them. Her eyes fell on their taloned hands, and she imagined them ripping through her skin, through Fitz’s. She gripped his shoulder.

“Fitz…” She began. “I-”

“I know, me-” He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes landed on a door to their right. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled Jemma through it and shoved it closed behind them, fumbling with the wheel to lock themselves in. They felt a few bangs against the door and then muffled growls of discussion. They wouldn’t have long, but for the moment, they were safe.

They fell into each other’s arms in relief, hearts pounding. Jemma felt tears streaming down her face. Fitz kissed the top of her head, then pulled away to take in their surroundings. It would have reminded him of a storage room, crates and boxes stacked up against the walls, apart from the huge machine in the middle of the floor. It stood almost as tall as a person, made out of mismatched pieces of metal and with dials and handles jutting out on either side. Symbols were engraved into the metal, but Fitz couldn’t read them.

Jemma approached it cautiously, circling the machine and tracing the engravings absentmindedly with her fingers. “I might be able to translate some of these runes…” She said. “I picked a few things up when I was in the Lighthouse.”

“Really? Blimey, with everything else going on, the creepy Kree and the poverty and the whole being-deaf-thing, not to mention that you’d just been transported into space and had no idea how you were going to…right, sorry.” She gave him a look that said, ‘I love you but I’m trying to concentrate’, so he quickly shut up.

“I think they’re numbers- in fact I’m sure they are. That one looks like a one,” she pointed at a crescent shape with a line through the bottom half, “and I think this one is a five, and I know that one is a nine…. that one must be an eight…. and I think that’s a three, or is that an eight instead?” Her confidence diminished with every new symbol she looked at. There were so many, and _maybe_ knowing just a few wasn’t much use.

A resonating thud at the door made them both jump; the Remorath were trying to break it down.

“Fitz, help me!” Jemma said.

“How!” He replied. “I don’t bloody know alien numbers!”

“ _I know_ , but… I’ve got a theory, I think it could be a transportation device-“ Another thud, louder this time.

Fitz hurried forwards and studied the machine more closely, his hands clammy with sweat. “I don’t know, how can we be sure?”

“Well we can’t! But Coulson mentioned a device to move him through space and time, this must be it!”

“You’re right, but we have no idea how it works or what the numbers are, whether they’re coordinates, dates-”

Fitzsimmons felt the ground shudder beneath them. The door seemed to groan in response to the blow it had just received, and Fitz swore he saw the whole thing give a little. 

“They’re coming, we have to _do_ something!” Jemma yelled.

“Alright, alright!” Fitz’s brain was scrambled by panic. “Argh, if we could only understand the numbers better!” Yet another crippling blow to the door, and now it had bent in on itself, starting to come off at the hinges.

“Let’s just put any in!” Jemma replied hysterically.

“ _Are you crazy_?! We could end up in another galaxy! Possibly not even in this century or any one near it! Or it could blow up! Or disintegrate us! Or do nothing!” Fitz waved his hands around furiously, his eyes wide and frightened.

“Fitz, if we do nothing we _definitely_ die, if we do this then we only _maybe_ die.”

“Oh bloody hell, that’s comforting.” He spent a second scanning through his options, then made his mind up. “Ok, let’s do it.”

Jemma’s fingers hovered over the dials, suddenly frozen with fear at the decision that lay before her. “I-”

Fitz leant over and spun the last four dials to any random angle just as the door burst open, crashing to the floor. His hand shook with terror as he saw the group of Remorath standing in the doorway, triumphant and out for revenge. He grabbed Jemma’s hand and made her hold onto the nearest handle, looked her in the eyes and said, “I love you”, then wrenched the main lever up.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

Fitzsimmons’ feet landed on solid ground with an impact that jolted through their ankles. They groped instinctively for each other, overwhelmed by their disorientating. The first thing Fitz managed to observe was that they were in an alleyway, the air humid despite being cloaked in shadow from the building next to them. The Remorath hadn’t got them. They weren’t dead. They were definitely on Earth. He could have cried with relief if it wasn’t for the dizziness that had taken over him.

“I’m going to be sick.” Jemma said weakly, turning away. She threw up into a bush then sank onto the floor, feeling faint. Fitz followed suit, joining her on the pavement. “We’re alive.” She said in dismay. “And we’re not on another planet… I don’t think.”

“I know.” Fitz replied, passing her the handkerchief he kept in his pocket. She accepted it gratefully. “I wonder what year it is. I have no idea what numbers I put in- I couldn’t even tell you the symbols, it all happened so quickly.”

“For the moment I don’t care, we can figure that out later. We’re alive, and we’re together, that’s all that matters.” 

For a while they sat on the floor in silence, until gradually they both felt they had recovered from their ordeal a little. “God, it’s hot.” Fitz said, the humid air sticky and stifling. His back and underarms felt damp with sweat.

“I know.” Jemma replied. “Where do you think we are? It certainly doesn’t feel like England.”

“I think our bigger problem is _when_.” Fitz said.

Jemma grimaced. “Shall we have a look around?” Fitz nodded.

They helped each other to their feet. Fitz held out his hand and Jemma wove her fingers through his. “Well,” she said, “I suppose there’s nothing left to do but…”

“Yeah…” They were both nervous, but somehow, they forced themselves to start walking and leave the protection of the shaded alleyway behind.

They emerged on a street corner, on a road full of one or two-storey buildings built from soft pink-brown brick. Signs for ‘Barb’s Diner’, ‘Launderette’, ‘Cooper’s Cornerstore’ and several other shops, restaurants, offices and businesses lined the street. An American flag hung in one of the windows.

“Ok,” Jemma said, her heart sinking as she took in the style of the town and its buildings, “maybe it’s just one of those quiet towns in America. That’s not so-” Her voice trailed off as a car cruised casually down the street, and then two more. 

“I reckon those are models from-”

“-the 40s…” Jemma finished, their eyes following the vehicles as they drove away.

Both stood in silence as the reality of the situation sunk in. A young woman in a white blouse, long skirt, immaculately styled hair and a wide-brimmed hat walked past them, staring unashamedly. Jemma realised how they must look. Fitz might have been able to just get away with it, in his trousers and shirt, but Jemma’s tight-fitting dark jeans and slim-fitting olive jumper couldn’t have looked more out of place. Not to mention the thin gash above her eyebrow that she couldn’t even remember getting. They had no money, no back-up and nowhere to go.

“Ok. Ok.” Jemma said aloud. “Right, so what we should do is… first of all we ought to… oh my god, what are we going to do!” Her breathing quickened and she felt her anxiety rising.

“Simmons, _Simmons_ , breathe.” Fitz cupped her face in his hands. “I am terrified, trust me I am, but we can’t panic.”

“But what are we going to do?” She wailed. “I’d rather we were in space again.” Her voice shrank. “Then there’d at least be a chance of getting home to our friends…”

Fitz thought of Daisy and Coulson, May and Mack and Yo-Yo, and his mum, who he hadn’t spoken to for months and who would spend the rest of her life wondering what had happened to her son. A lump stuck in his throat, and he pulled Jemma close to his chest, the heat beating into them, breathing into her hair and trying hard to stop himself from crying. They had to figure out what to do next.

“Are you quite alright?” Fitzsimmons pulled apart to locate the voice. A tall, slim British man stood on the pavement, looking both curious and concerned. Despite the humidity he was wearing a muted-green three-piece suit, complete with a tie and newspaper folded under his arm. Fitzsimmons were momentarily thrown by his distinct Britishness.

“Oh, yes, yes, we’re fine, thank you.” Jemma replied, wiping her face with her sleeve.

The man’s shrewd eyes bore into hers. “Is that so?”

“Well, we’re in a little bit of a tricky situation, but we’ll be fine, I appreciate your concern.”

“Hm.” The man replied thoughtfully. “Miss-?”

“Simmons. Jemma Simmons.” She answered, sharing a glance with Fitz, who didn’t seem sure how to react either.

“Miss Simmons, pardon my impertinence but you do appear a little distressed. It wouldn’t do to simply continue on my way when I might be able to offer assistance to a young lady such as yourself- and of course your friend Mr-?”

“Er, Leopald Fitz.”

“Mr Fitz.” He inclined his head. “Now, there’s a rather marvellous little place down the road where we could get something to eat.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you but-”

“-We couldn’t pay for it.”

“Oh, that’s no problem. It’s on me.” The man said with a smile. “Besides, you are receiving some rather curious looks.”

Fitzsimmons looked at each other in unease. “I really don’t know if this is a good idea. We have no idea who this guy is!” Fitz said under his breath.

“I know, but… what else are we going to do?”

Fitz caved. “Alright, then.” 

“Splendid!” The man said.

“Oh, I didn’t catch your name.” Jemma said suddenly.

“Oh, how rude of me. I’m-” he hesitated, “Edison Jackson. Shall we?” 

They followed the so-called Edison Jackson down the road, having no idea where they were going. Some little detail nagged at the back of Jemma’s mind, but she just couldn’t pinpoint it. They remained on the main road and didn’t appear to be followed or in any danger, so they just kept walking. Gradually, the roads got busier and more people passed them, staring. Eventually, Mr Jackson stopped outside a stylishly-built diner with the words “L&L Automat” in neon green lighting above the doors. Cautiously, Fitzsimmons followed him in, exchanging wary glances.

The inside was a combination of mint green and pale pink, and the waitresses wore baby blue uniforms. Momentarily forgetting their situation, Jemma felt a thrill of excitement at walking into a genuine 1940s American Diner. Upbeat music and the buzz of voices filled the room, and a pretty waitress with curly blonde hair arrived to serve them.

“Angie! I didn’t know you were still working here!” Jackson exclaimed in happy surprise.

Angie shrugged. “Gotta keep earning ‘til I make it to Broadway.” Her eyes flitted to Fitzsimmons. “Who are your... friends?”

“This is Jemma Simmons,” Jemma gave a little smile, “and Leopald Fitz.” Fitz nodded at Angie.

“Nice to meet you.” She said, restricting herself from making any more comments. She held up her notebook, pen poised. “So, what do ya want?”

Fitz, Simmons and Edison ordered, and until the food arrived at their table, Fitzsimmons hadn’t realised how hungry they were. They sank back in their seats, totally full and a little more rested.

“Thank you, Mr Jackson, that was wonderful.” Jemma said, as Edison wiped the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief.

“My pleasure.” He replied. His eyes narrowed and he leaned forwards a little, his hands resting on the table. “So, may I ask you where you’re from?”

“We’re…. not from around here.” Jemma said hesitantly.

“I can see that.” Jackson said. “Although I don’t believe your garments are the style in either England or Scotland.”

“Not… currently.” Fitz replied.

“Are you in trouble?”

“In a way…” Jemma said.

“From the police? Criminals? The government?”

“Oh no.” She said hurriedly, then unsure of what to say next.

“You wouldn’t believe us if told you. Or understand.” Fitz remarked. 

Jackson considered Fitz’s words. “Perhaps not, but I have a friend who might.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of creative flexibility, let's just pretend that the L&L Automat is in LA ;)


	3. Chapter 3

“Look,” Fitz said awkwardly, “we don’t want to cause any trouble. We’d rather not involve lots of people to be honest.”

“Exactly.” Jemma replied. “You’ve been so kind, but you really don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

Jackson smiled amiably. “You’d be surprised at the things I’ve seen. My gut tells me that my friend will be able to help you, or at least want to hear whatever story you have to tell. The way you dress, the way you speak and,” he gestured randomly, “ _something_ about you tells me you’re two very interesting individuals.”

Fitzsimmons exchanged a look. They really had no place to go, nowhere to stay and no money. At the very least it would give them more of an idea of where they were.

Jackson saw their hesitation. “I can ensure you that my friends are quite trustworthy.”

Fitzsimmons sighed, shrugged and nodded.

Jackson asked no more questions, simply hailed a cab for them and told the driver where to take them to. Jemma felt fatigue begin to wash over her again, so she lay her head on Fitz’s shoulder and rested her eyes. She awoke to Fitz gently shaking her. They stepped out of the car, blinking in the sunlight, the rush of heat suffocating. Jackson smoothed out his jacket.

“Just around the corner now. I didn’t want to park right outside in case someone was watching.” He winked at them. “I’m rather good at this now.”

Bewildered, Fitzsimmons could only make vague noises of acknowledgment. The streets in this area of the city- LA, they had found out- were busy with people, there was a hum of purpose and sophistication, men and women in stylish, fashionable outfits weaving their way through the streets.

Fitz put his mouth to Jemma’s ear. “If anything seems wrong, we run, ok?”

Jemma squeezed his hand. “I know, I’ll be watching.” 

Jackson stopped on a street corner. “Here we are, folks.”

Jemma followed his gaze to a sign she hadn’t even noticed despite looking at the windows of the building. Under red and yellow Comedy and Tragedy Masks, were printed the words “Auerbach Theatrical Agency”. Her stomach lurched and she grabbed Fitz’s arm. “Oh my God!” She hissed. “I know where we are!”

Fitz and Jackson looked confused. “Wha-?”

Jemma felt flushed and jittery. “The _sign_ , Fitz! Look at it.”

Fitz’s eyes found the sign and mouthed the words, still looking bewildered.

“Oh, come _on_ , Fitz, don’t tell me you can’t remember-”

“ _Bloody hell_!” His mouth dropped open and he stared at Jemma. “But that means-”

“ _I know_!” She spun round to face ‘Jackson’. “Your name isn’t Edison Jackson, is it? God, I can’t believe I didn’t realise sooner! You’re Edwin Jarvis! It all makes sense now!”

Jarvis gaped. “I beg your pardon; how do you know how I am?!” He looked disgruntled. “Was I really that obvious? I thought I’d mastered the art of being a spy.”

“Never mind that. Why did you lie?”

“One can never be too careful when one has experience _in the Field_ , so to speak.”

Fitz looked like he couldn’t decide whether to roll his eyes or shake his hand. He blinked and turned to Jemma. “Simmons, you do realise that means he’s taking us to…”

Jemma suddenly felt terrified. “I know.”

Jarvis looked increasingly more confused. “I don’t understand, how on earth do you seem to know everything? You clearly don’t belong here.” His eyes narrowed. “Hang on, are you agents too?”

“Sort of.” Fitz replied.

“Well why are you dressed like that?” He exclaimed. “And what were you crying about? I don’t understand!”

“Look, I’m sorry we’ve put you through this, but I promise, we’ll explain it all. Now that we know where we are, we can tell you the truth.”

Fitzsimmons seemed to read each other’s minds. _Well, not the whole truth… the entire future of SHIELD- and the world- depended on how they phrased their words_.

They reached for each other’s hands and held them tight, aware that they were both shaking. It felt too surreal. Jarvis opened his mouth like he was going to ask a question but changed his mind. “Come along then.”

A bell tinkled as the door opened into a small, cluttered reception area. A lady with red hair and winged glasses perched precariously on the end of her nose was sat at a desk, looking at several neat piles of documents. Her face broke into a smile as she looked up. “Jarvis!”

“Rose- always a pleasure.”

She peered past him at Fitzsimmons, frowning. “And who are-?”

“This is Jemma Simmons and Leopald Fitz. Rose, would you be a darling and let us up to the office?”

Rose hesitated. “You know I’m not meant to do that too often, Jarvis…” He began to speak, but Rose cut him off. “But for you? Just this once.” She winked and pressed a button under her desk, and a bookcase swung open to reveal a lift. 

Fitz shook his head in amazement. They stepped into the lift, shuddering only slightly to reveal that they were travelling upwards. Fitz saw Jemma checking her appearance in the mirror, desperately trying to smooth her hair and wipe the smudged mascara from under her eyes. Otherwise, they stood in tense silence.

The doors opened to a corridor of polished marble floor, flanked by doors on either side and a staircase in one corner. Jemma looked around, blinking. It was exactly like the photographs. It was bizarre. Jarvis cleared his throat, clearly completely perplexed by them both. “This way.”

Jemma could only nod. They followed him into the main office, then froze. 

A woman’s sharp, confident voice rose over the hum of male conversations and the click of typewriters, quieting the circle of agents around her. “Thompson, I want you to go in before us and gather as much intel as you can. Crawford and Gregory, you’re on back-up. Stay outside, blend in, and keep an eye out. Daniel, you’ll join me and follow Thompson inside. This should stay under the radar; I want to avoid conflict at all costs. Dismissed.” She nodded curtly and the men dissipated, leaving her to flick through some files in front of her.

Fitzsimmons stood in the doorway, clenching each other’s hands to the point of pain, staring at the woman they had learnt so much about, who they had looked up to and idolised for years, and who symbolised everything SHIELD stood for. Peggy Elizabeth Carter, current Chief of the SSR base in LA, and future founder and Director of SHIELD.

Jemma felt tears in her eyes. She squeezed Fitz’s hand even harder. Peggy placed the file on the table and sighed, staring out of the window. She smoothed the fabric of her skirt absentmindedly, deep blue with a matching jacket hung neatly over a nearby chair, deep in thought.

“Miss Carter!” Jarvis said suddenly, making Jemma jump. For a split second she wanted to turn and run.

Peggy turned around, her curled hair bouncing about her shoulders. “Mr Jarvis?” She exclaimed in surprise. “What brings you here?” Her gaze slid to Fitzsimmons and her eyes narrowed. Jemma felt her legs turn to liquid. “Who are these people? I’m afraid you can’t just bring people in here any time you feel like it. If you wanted to talk to me, you could just _telephone_.”

“Yes, yes, but truly- I think this is important.”

He gestured not-so-subtly at Fitzsimmons. Like shy school children, they approached Peggy until they were stood right in front of her. Her sharp eyes observed every inch of them.

“Yes?”

Fitz’s throat was so dry he could barely speak. “Right, well… we- we were hoping to- you see-“ He gave up on trying to form coherent sentences. “Bloody hell…”

Jemma couldn’t take her eyes off Peggy. Her vision blurred and a single hot tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another. She tried quickly to wipe them away. 

Peggy’s face softened with concern. “Are you alright?” She glanced around the office, noting the stares of her colleagues. “Come on, in here.” She gently manoeuvred Jemma into her office, Fitz following. The words “Chief Carter” were printed onto the clouded glass.

Peggy’s kindness and the enormity of the situation had simply overwhelmed her. Once the tears had started it became difficult to stop. Peggy directed her onto the leather sofa and sank down next to her. Jemma’s shoulders shook with tears and she hid her face in her hands. Peggy rubbed her back comfortingly and passed her a handkerchief.

“This- is not- how I- imagined meeting you would be…” Jemma sobbed. Peggy’s eyebrows knotted in confusion, but she saved her questions for later.

“There there.” She said soothingly. “It’s alright.”

Fitz hovered awkwardly in the corner, lost for words and an appropriate response to the situation. He could hardly believe he was seeing both Simmons and Peggy in the same room. After a few minutes they heard a knock on the door.

“Miss Carter?” Jarvis said.

“Peg?” Came Daniel Sousa’s anxious voice. “You alright in there?”

“Fine, don’t worry.” She called. “Just give us a moment.”

Jemma took a deep breath and sipped at the water Fitz had poured for her. She smiled at him gratefully, one single look enough to pass on her unspoken words. She turned her attention to Peggy.

“Th-thank you.” Her heart filled with warmth.

Peggy smiled sympathetically. “Of course. I was hardly going to let you sob in front of those brutes.” She winked. “Although they’re not all bad. Now, if I were to follow the rules, I should tell Jarvis off for revealing our location and ask you to leave… but I’m too curious about you for that.”

“You’re not the first.” Fitz replied dryly. 

“Firstly, where on earth are you from? I can’t figure you out. You speak like the British but dress like… goodness knows what. I’ve not seen that sort of clothing _anywhere_ in the world.”

Fitzsimmons shared a glance. Jemma swallowed. “I have to warn you; it’s going to sound unbelievable. You’re going to think that we’re lying, or that we’re utterly crazy. But please, listen to us. We never meant to end up here- in this city but specifically _here_ , in your office, with you.” Fitz shook his head, once again baffled by their whole situation. “We’re not doing this to waste your time.” Simmons looked to Fitz for support, and he pulled up a chair next to her.

Jemma sighed. There was nothing left to do but start talking. “We’re agents too, and we work for a formerly large organisation that was recently disbanded. We work behind the scenes, secretly saving innocent lives and fighting enemies that the general public just can’t know about. It’s been an intense few years. Fitz and I… are very clever… we graduated when we were very young and were recruited to join a school dedicated to science and research; one of three that formed the building blocks for the main organisation.”

Jemma thought over her words. It was crucial not to mention SHIELD’s name or any key bits of information that could influence Peggy too much. It was like avoiding cracks in the pavement. “There is other life out there, other planets and species that we couldn’t have imagined. But our paths crossed, and things got complicated. Fitz and I were separated from our friends and nearly killed- again- and we used a transportation device to escape. We had no idea how to use it and we just happened to end up… here.” Her voice wavered when she mentioned the team, and Fitz reached for her hand, smoothing gentle circles across her skin as she talked.

Peggy stared at her silently, her face unreadable. “So, you’re telling me that aliens are real and you are agents of a huge organisation we know nothing about?” Jemma opened her mouth to speak but could only nod numbly. “And you expect me to believe two total strangers with no proof.” Jemma could feel her resolve crumbling.

“Give her a break.” Fitz said. “Even if you don’t believe us, can’t you see she’s been through enough? We both have.” Jemma looked up, astonished. “Why would we come here- or why would Jarvis feel he needed to bring us to you- bearing in mind we knew his name- if we didn’t have something big to tell? Why would we want to make this up?”

“I- I don’t know.” Peggy replied. “You’re right; my instinct tells me that something is going on. But that doesn’t mean I believe you.”

“That’s understandable.” Fitz said.

“You mentioned that you’d used an alien teleportation device to get here. Just- humour me now; where are you supposedly from?”

Jemma made sure to keep her voice steady and confident and look Peggy right in the eyes. “The question you should be asking is when. Fitz and I were born in 1987 and we travelled from the year 2018.”

Peggy blinked. She shook her head and struggled for a reply. “I don’t know what to say. My head is telling me I should call the police and never see you again… but- there’s something about you, Jemma, both of you, really.” Peggy’s eyes were unwavering and analytical, boring into Jemma’s. “If someone would have told me a few years ago that scientists could develop a serum that would transform an amazing man into an incredible one, and that he’d fight Nazis and save the world, and that I’d be there with him, by his side…” Her voice trailed off, her thoughts drifting to another time. She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. “I’d have thought you were crazy. Some of the things I’ve seen and done I would have thought were impossible, yet they happened… Could time travel be another one of those impossible but possible things?” 

“I know it’s hard to believe…” Jemma said hopelessly.

Peggy chewed her lip, thinking. “Why are you here? I mean _here_. Why are you opening up to me? Why did you react so strangely when we met? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Jemma hesitated. Before she could speak, a series of heavy knocks on the door interrupted her.

“Carter?” Thompson shouted, banging on the door with his fist again.

Peggy sighed. “A simple tap would suffice, Thompson, you give me enough headaches as it is.”

“You need to get out here.”

“Can’t it wait a moment?”

“ _Can’t it wait_? The hell if it can, would I be talking to you right now if it could?” They heard a muffled curse. “Look, I’m coming in, I’m not standing outside your door like an ass.”

Peggy shot an apologetic look at Fitzsimmons as Thompson walked in, followed by Sousa and a rather out-of-place Jarvis. Her office was certainly crowded.

“We’ve got a lead.” Thompson began. “If we leave now, we can catch them-” His eyes landed on Jarvis. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jarvis looked ruffled and Peggy spoke up before things got unnecessarily heated. “Perhaps it would be better if you stepped outside, Mr Jarvis. I’m truly grateful for your help, but the SSR can handle this.”

Thompson jerked a thumb at Fitzsimmons. “What about these two? Want me to get someone to put them in custody?” He looked Jemma up and down, and something inside her snapped.

“We know how these things work, thank you; we’ll wait outside- although if you need any assistance, do let us know; you might be surprised.”

She strode past Thompson, taking pleasure in the look on his face- like he’d just been slapped, she thought.

“Jesus, Marge, she’s just like you!”

Peggy bit back a grin of respect and amusement, watching Simmons and Fitz as they shut the door before turning her attention back to the men in her office and the situation at hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Once Fitzsimmons got out into the corridor, they stopped and stared at each other. Several seconds passed in stunned silence before a wave of hysteria overcame them both and they burst into noisy laughter.

Fitz covered his mouth with his hands in disbelief. “What the bloody hell just happened?”

Jemma was still having trouble containing her giggles. “I-” She took a deep breath and smoothed her hair back. “I don’t know!”

“Are we dreaming? Honestly, Simmons, am I just making this up?”

“I don’t think we could even _imagine_ this.” She replied.

“We just met Peggy Carter.” Fitz said in utter astonishment.

“I cried in front of her- I _really_ cried. And she comforted me...”

“We _spoke_ to her. In her SSR office.”

“She knows our _names_ , Fitz.” Jemma said in a whisper. “Our lives have crossed with hers. _Peggy Carter_.

Fitz shook his head, his hands on his hips. “The way you spoke to Jack Thompson.”

Jemma bit her lip, then laughed again. “Oh god.”

“I’ve never been prouder of you in my life.” Fitz said solemnly, before his face broke into a grin and he pulled her into his arms.

Jemma’s face softened and she breathed in the familiar scent of his clothes. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

“It’s a good job; I could barely string a sentence together.” Fitz teased.

Jemma pulled back. “I’m serious!” She placed a hand on his cheek. “Whatever happens,” she said softly as he leaned in to kiss her, “we’ll get through this.”

They heard voices from the main office. “Yes, Jarvis, I’m telling you the truth- whether it is _the_ truth, I’m not entirely sure, but it’s the truth _I’ve_ heard. You asked me to tell you what I know so I _did_.”

“But- but- that’s impossible!”

“I am well aware.” Peggy strode into the corridor, Jarvis at her heels. “ _Please_ , Mr Jarvis, I have a mission to prepare for.” 

“Of course, of course.” He said apologetically. “But-” 

“ _Jarvis_!” Peggy stopped and glared at him. “I love you dearly but if you ask me one more question, I may have to consider knocking you out. I’d much rather not have to go through with it so _please_ , save the questions for _later_.” 

Jarvis blinked. “Right, yes, I do apologise, Miss Carter. I rather forgot myself.”

Peggy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” She saw Fitzsimmons watching her and smiled wanly. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, really it’s- fine.” Fitz replied.

“I have to go out on this mission, but I want to talk to you when I come back. I shouldn’t be gone more than a few hours.” Peggy glanced momentarily back as Sousa called her name. “Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?” They shook their heads. “I thought as much. Well, my friend Howard is currently away, on _business_ , supposedly.” Peggy rolled her eyes. “I can quite imagine the business he is undertaking- in fact, no, I don’t want to.”

“Howard… Stark?” Fitz said breathlessly.

“I- yes.” Peggy frowned. “How did you-? Oh, never mind, we can continue our conversation later. Anyway, Mr Stark’s home is free for the near future and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a couple of guests- he owes me enough favours- so I’ll have Mr Jarvis drive you over and I’ll meet you there later. Does that sound alright?”

Fitz didn’t seem capable of answering so Jemma replied with a strangled “yes”. Peggy nodded, smiled and began to walk away, her heels tapping on the floor and her frame strong and poised.

“Is there anything we can do?” Jemma called out. “To help, I mean.”

Peggy turned back, looking a little confused. “Don’t worry, I can handle this. I’ll see you later.” She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something more, then followed Sousa’s voice back into the office.

Fitzsimmons turned to each other in disbelief.

“Mr Stark’s mansion. Peggy Carter has just given permission for Edwin Jarvis to drive us to Howard Stark’s mansion. Ok…” Fitz scratched his head. “You just couldn’t make this up.”

“Imagine Coulson’s face when-” Jemma faltered, the unspoken ‘if’ hanging in the air between them. She struggled to continue, remembering how Coulson’s life had been hanging in the balance before they had been separated. If they ended up stuck in the 40s forever, they would never know if they could have saved him or what had happened

“I know, I feel the same way.” Fitz said with a sigh. “This is all so surreal and amazing but at the same time…”

“…we shouldn’t even be here…” Jemma finished sadly. “I miss the team. We should be back home helping them!”

“I know, I wonder what they’re thinking.”

“They’ll think we’ve been captured, or that we’re… dead.”

“I feel so helpless.” Fitz confessed. He held up his hands, revealing a slight twitch. “See? I need to _do_ something.”

“I know. But there’s nothing we can do right now. We just have to be patient.” Jemma pulled a face. “And neither of us are particularly good at that, especially when it comes to the team.”

Fitz held out a hand. “Come on, my lovely wife, let’s go find Jarvis.”

That made Jemma smile. “Ok, husband.”

The light was beginning to soften when they stepped outside with Jarvis. The glare of the mid- afternoon sun had lessened, and the streets were cast in a golden glow. Despite the absence of the sun, it was still close and humid, and once again Jemma wished she wasn’t wearing a wool sweater and black jeans. “We’ll find something else to wear soon.” Fitz said, reading her mind. She wiped her sweaty hands on her thighs and smiled weakly.

“Miss Carter trusted me with her keys, so we don’t have to get a taxi.” Jarvis explained as they entered a nearby alleyway and climbed into the car. “Sousa will drop her off later, all being well. I’ve phoned my wife, so she won’t be expecting me home as usual.” He sniffed. “Perhaps Benny Goodman will have to wait until tomorrow.”

“How is your wife?” Fitz asked, suddenly remembering the story of how Mrs Jarvis was caught up in SSR conflict and shot in the stomach, ruining their hopes of having children.

“Ana is well, thank you.” Jarvis answered with pride. “She’s simply splendid.”

They drove in silence for a while, Fitzsimmons together in the back, watching as the streets got quieter and houses sparser, until eventually impressive long drives and huge, extravagant houses came into view.

“Is it really true, what Miss Carter told me?” Jarvis asked, glancing at them both in the mirror.

"Every word.” Fitz said.

“Miss Carter seems inclined to trust you, but- what about _proof_? It seems so hard to believe.”

“It is.” Jemma admitted. “We don’t expect you to believe us straight away, but we’ll explain more, and perhaps our amount of knowledge will be proof enough. We know things that would be very difficult to come by if we hadn’t come from the future.”

Jarvis shook his head in astonishment. “I don’t know what to believe, but I rather like you both, so that’ll do for now.”

Jemma smiled at his words, realising how lucky they were that Jarvis had bumped into them earlier that day. Eventually, Jarvis pulled in front of a huge ornate gate that was bordered by a brick wall. He excused himself and got out to unlock it, then cruised slowly along the fine gravel drive. Jemma craned forwards as the house came into view. Fitz whistled in admiration as they saw it. Even the photos they’d seen of Stark’s various properties couldn’t have prepared them for the sheer wealth that was displayed in front of them. Palm trees lined the grounds, a fountain stood in the centre of a neatly trimmed grassy lawn- still vivid in colour despite the season- leaving plenty of space to show off Stark’s many expensive cars, and Jemma spotted a swimming pool to their left. The house itself- if you could call it a house- was at least four stories high, with multiple balconies jutting out from the higher floors. It was handsomely built, classic yet with a modern feel- for the 40s at least. To accommodate Howard Stark’s ego, it had to be all that and more.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Jarvis said as they got out, Fitzsimmons gaping in awe. “A little extravagant if you ask me, but Stark seems to enjoy it.”

“Ye-yes.” Fitz replied. “I’d certainly say so.”

“Follow me.” Jarvis said with a smile.

He led them through so many rooms they lost count, each furnished as expensively as the last. They glimpsed a lab and Jemma saw Fitz’s eyes light up, his curiosity sparking. She felt a thrill run through her at the thought of being in Howard Stark’s lab, but they both kept quiet as Jarvis gave them the tour. He eventually stopped at a bedroom on the third floor.

“Will this suffice?” Jarvis enquired. “I assume you’ll be sharing a room.”

Jemma looked from the exquisitely carved four-poster bed to the heavy curtains tied open to reveal a generously sized window. A door on the right presumably led to a dressing room, and there were little glass and silver jars of make-up and perfume on the ornate dressing table. “Certainly.” She managed to say. She traced her fingers along the carved frame of the bed. “This is so kind of you, Mr Jarvis.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He said with a casual wave.

“No, really.” Fitz said. “I don’t think I’d have been so accommodating to two total strangers with such a crazy story.”

“It means so much.” Jemma added. “We’re completely out of our depth here and you’ve gone out of your way to help us.”

Jarvis’ face softened. “It’s my pleasure, truly. I hope we get to hear more of your story soon, but first of all I’ll let you freshen up and wait for Miss Carter. I’m sure you’re exhausted.” Fitzsimmons smiled gratefully. “Oh, and help yourself to anything in the wardrobe- though do excuse the various…” he grimaced, “ _costumes_ in there; Mr Stark is utterly beyond me.”

“Thank you, Mr Jarvis, we’ll keep that in mind.” Fitz just about managed to keep a straight face.

“Mr Fitz, Miss Simmons, I’ll see you shortly.” He quietly shut the door, leaving them both alone.

Jemma collapsed onto the bed with a sigh of relief. Fitz joined her, their legs dangling over opposite sides of the bed. “Finally, a bit of quiet, no questions, no funny looks.”

Jemma fanned her face with her hand. “I’m still so warm. I need a wash, and a clean set of clothes.”

She stood up and looked out of the window, admiring the sunset, then walked over to the dressing room. Fitz heard the running of water and a deep sigh from Jemma. “Cold water has never felt so refreshing.” 

The prospect of a wash and clean clothes was too much too resist, and so Fitz joined her next door. Jemma smiled at him through the mirror, scraping her hair into a messy bun. She pulled her jumper over her head and threw it aside. “Good riddance.” She said with relish. She staggered awkwardly with her jeans and tossed those away too. Fitz laughed and shook his head, taking his own shirt off, then splashed cold water over his face.

“Bloody hell, I needed that.” He glanced slyly at Jemma stood in her underwear, captivated by the wardrobe of clothes in front of her, and flicked cold water at her back. She jumped and squealed, taken by surprise.

“Fitz!” She darted up to the sink, collected water in her hands and threw them at Fitz’s face. He spluttered and grabbed at her, catching her wrist. He pulled her close to him, purposely pressing his cold hands to her back.

She gasped and laughed loudly. “Fitz!”

The floor around them was splattered with water, the quiet interrupted by their squeals and laughter.

“Shhh!” Jemma giggled. “What on earth will Jarvis think?”

“From up here? He won’t be able to hear us, Jem.”

She grinned and wrapped her arms around his waist. Fitz stooped and pressed a kiss under her jaw. Jemma’s stomach fluttered. She lifted his head to hers with a gentle hand, brushing a kiss across his lips. For those few seconds, only the two of them mattered.

Eventually, Jemma drew back with a shy, breathless smile. Fitz tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pressed a light kiss to her forehead before pulling away and observing the wardrobe. His eyes immediately fell upon the outfits Jarvis had warned them of.

“Interesting.” He said. “Not many people can say they’ve seen the clothes Howard Stark likes his girlfriends to wear when they have sex.”

Jemma pushed him jokingly. “ _Fitz_.”

“Although considering his reputation, maybe they can.”

Jemma laughed and stepped out of his arms, smoothing her hands through the rails of clothes. She pulled out a full-length silk dressing gown and a silk nightgown with lace along the hem, straps and neckline. “Wow.” She breathed. “Real 40s nightwear. It’s so beautiful.”

Fitz reached for a pair of silk pyjama bottoms and a matching shirt. He grimaced. “Not my usual attire.” He hung them over the chair and chose a pair of loose, casual trousers and shirt instead.

“Opting out of the night wear?” Jemma teased as she pulled on her choice of clothing.

“I’d look like a right wanker sitting downstairs with Peggy and Jarvis in my silk pyjamas. Besides, my usual ‘night wear’ consists of being semi-naked- also not particularly appropriate.”

“Fair point.” Jemma agreed. She scooped up their clothes and lay them out on the bed in the main room, then sank back down on the covers and absentmindedly stroked the soft fabric of her robe. 

“We should have a little time to ourselves before Peggy comes back.” Fitz said from next door. “There’s nothing we can do until then.” Jemma stretched out on the bed. “Wake me if I fall asleep.”

Fitz popped his head around the door, smiling. “Will do.” 

“In fact, wake me when it’s all over.”

"Simmons, that might be never.” Fitz said with a meaningful look. “But I’ll wake you if you fall asleep.”

Jemma curled up on the bed and looked out of the window at the sky streaked with cotton-candy pink and orange strands. “I love you.”

"Love you too." Fitz said smiling at her affectionately.


	5. Chapter 5

Simmons had just opened her mouth to wonder aloud what time Peggy would get back when a screech of tires made her jump. She leapt up off the bed and ran to the window. A car had pulled up outside the house, dragging tire tracks through the pristine grass in its haste to arrive. Daniel Sousa got out of the car and limped hurriedly to the back, yanking open the door and reaching inside.

“Oh, shit.” Fitz said, as he joined her by the window. They both flew down the stairs, meeting Jarvis on his way out.

“Something’s happened.” He said somewhat unnecessarily, his face creased with worry.

Sousa saw them waiting. “There were more there than we thought. Peggy got hurt. I lost sight of her and she only just got away, but they shot her. Help me, please!”

Fitz helped him pull a semi-conscious Peggy out of the car, Sousa supporting her as best he could. They struggled awkwardly into the front room, Jarvis running ahead the get the first aid kit. Peggy’s hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and blood stained the right side of her blouse.

“I’m fine.” She said, wincing. “It’s just a graze, I swear.”

Jemma took the first aid kit from Jarvis. “Let me do that,” she said hurriedly, “I’m a doctor.” Jarvis arched his eyebrows in surprise and stepped out of the way. Jemma knelt down in front of Peggy, propped up on the sofa, and gently lifted her blood-stained blouse from her skin. Sousa hovered anxiously beside her.

Jemma scanned through the items in the first aid kit and wiped the wound with a cloth. She felt Peggy’s forehead, then spoke. “It is a graze, Peggy’s right, but I think it might be infected, that’s why she’s so weak.”

“ _Shit_.” Sousa said under his breath.

“But I can clean it and reduce the fever and fight the infection before it gets too bad.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“Look, it’s probably best if you wait outside for a bit. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Sousa opened his mouth to protest but Fitz clapped a comforting arm on his shoulder and steered him out of the room. “She’ll be fine, she’s in good hands.”

Jemma got to work, more at ease with less people around her. She tried not to focus on the fact that she was treating Peggy Carter’s bullet wound, or else her hands began to shake. After a while she sat back and breathed a sigh of relief, Peggy’s wound cleaned and stitched up and dressed. She wiped at her hands with a cloth, but the blood had already dried on her skin. She tried to push back the surge of bad memories that she associated with the dried, rust coloured stain of blood on her hands.

“Thank you, Jemma.” Peggy said quietly, making Jemma looking up.

“It’s ok.” She replied with a sympathetic smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve just been shot.” She said with a weak but witty grin.

“That bullet must have been filthy.” Jemma said with a shudder. “The wound itself wasn’t deep but it had already begun to get infected.”

“I imagine it was. Our opponents appear to have scavenged their weapons from all over the place.” 

“At least Sousa got you to us quickly.” Jemma said. “He’s worried about you.” She suddenly felt a little guilty. “I should probably let him in again, I was a little abrupt with him earlier. I know Fitz would have been the same if I was the one hurt.”

“He’s a good man.” Peggy said, her tired face flooding with warmth. “I’m lucky to have him... Fitz obviously adores you too, he can’t keep his eyes off you.”

“I love him.” She said simply.

"How long have you been together?” Peggy asked.

“A few years now, but we’ve been best friends since we were sixteen. We just never realised or confronted our feelings until much later.” 

“You’re very sweet together. A strong team.” Peggy said. “I can see that, and I’ve only just met you.”

“We are.” Jemma said, gazing down at the ring on her finger. “We’ve gone through so much over the last few years, and been separated so many times, but it’s just made us stronger.” She saw Peggy wince and grit her teeth. “I’ll get you some pain relief.” Jemma suggested. “And Sousa, too, if you like.”

Peggy nodded. “Please. He’ll be driving himself crazy with worry, he always does.” 

“And don’t you?” Jemma said knowingly. 

“Of course.” Peggy said with a sly smile. “But don’t let him know that.”

“Oh, I don’t think he needs telling...” 

Jemma got to her feet and opened the door. “Sousa?” He looked up immediately and stopped pacing the hall. “I’m finished, you can come in now.”

“Thanks, Miss- Dr Simmons.”

“Please, call me Jemma. And I’m sorry for how I spoke to you earlier, I fear I was a little rude.”

“There’s no need to apologise, we were all tense and you needed space to work.” His voice became more solemn. “I can’t thank you enough. I had no idea where to go, I couldn’t risk taking her to the hospital- too many questions. I owe you a real debt.”

“It’s my pleasure, honestly.” Jemma said with a smile. “I’m happy I could help.”

Sousa nodded, readjusted his grip on his crutch, and limped past her. “Goodnight, Miss- Jemma.”

Jemma watched as Peggy’s tired face lit up when Sousa entered the room, then left them both to it and went to find Fitz and Jarvis.

“She’ll be fine.” Jemma said as she walked into the kitchen, before they could ask. “I’ve given her some pain relief which should help her sleep, and Sousa is with her now.”

“Splendid.” Jarvis said. “That is good news. I’ve decided to spend the night here, so I think I’ll retire now myself. Goodnight to you both. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

Fitzsimmons bade him goodnight and Jemma begena scrubbing the dried blood from her hands. “Peggy Carter’s blood.” She said numbly.

“No need to sound quite so amazed.” Fitz teased.

Jemma shot him a look. “Oh, you know what I mean.” She sighed. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too.” Fitz said, passing her a towel. “Let’s go to bed.”

It didn’t take long for Fitzsimmons to crawl under the covers, the stress of the day- and the last few weeks- catching up on them. Jemma lay curled up with her head on Fitz’s chest. Her mind was churning with all the things that had happened that day, but she could barely keep her eyes open, her whole body aching, and fatigue soon took over her. She fell into a deep sleep almost immediately, calmed by the steady rise and fall of Fitz’s breathing.


	6. Chapter 6

Jemma awoke alone the next morning, the sun already streaming through the windows and casting warmth over the bed. Fitz was sat in the chair by the dressing table, smiling when he saw she was awake.

“Morning, sleepy.”

“Hi.” Jemma said drowsily. “What time is it?”

Fitz glanced at the grandfather clock in the room. “Just after 10.30.” 

“10.30?!” Jemma exclaimed, sitting up abruptly.

“Don’t freak out, Jemma, you needed that.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, you know me, I can never sleep in.”

“How are you feeling?” She asked, swinging her legs out of bed and stretching her arms above her head.

“I’m ok.”” Fitz replied. “We ought to check on Peggy though.”

“Give me two minutes.”

Jemma walked along the hall to the bathroom, combing her fingers through her hair and grimacing at its greasiness, then slipped her silk dressing gown from the night before over her nightie. They made their way downstairs together, coming across a fully dressed Jarvis quietly reading the newspaper, glasses on, a concentrated frown on his face.

“Sleep well?” He asked brightly. Fitzsimmons nodded. “Peggy and Sousa are next door.” He placed a finger to his lips. “I believe they’re still resting.”

Fitz quietly eased the living room door open and Jemma’s heart melted at the sight of Sousa’s arm curled around a sleeping Peggy. She was still sound asleep, but Sousa raised his free arm in greeting. “I’ll make tea.” Jemma mouthed, backing out of the room. When she re-entered a few minutes later, Peggy had begun to stir. She placed the tray carrying a tea pot, several cups and saucers, and a simple array of breakfast foods on a nearby table, careful not to knock anything over.

“Morning.” Jemma said. “How did you sleep?”

"Better than I expected.” Peggy admitted, easing herself slowly into a sitting position.

“May I?” Jemma asked, gesturing at Peggy’s wound.

“Of course.”

Jemma knelt and gently pulled away the gauze. The site was bloody and red, but the swelling had eased off and so had the infection.

Jemma gave a little smile. “Looking good, but I’m afraid you’re going to be out of action for a couple of days.”

“Oh, no I’ll be fine.” Peggy said stubbornly. “I’ve dealt with much worse.”

“Peggy? I’m reminded of the time you fell through a building and got impaled by a metal rod, then nearly bled out because you came out on a mission days afterwards.” Sousa reminded her.

“I was sat in a _van_.” She objected.

“My point exactly.”

Peggy couldn’t seem to think of a reply to that, just gave a little huff of annoyance under her breath.

Avoiding breakfast, Jemma excused herself to shower and get ready. She found herself feeling oddly nervous, her stomach twisting itself into knots. She wished Daisy were here, or Coulson, with his calm leadership, or any of her friends. She wondered what they were doing, so many years in the future. And if she would ever get home again.

With her wet hair bundled up into a knot after a long hot shower and her silk robe tied across her body, Jemma found herself staring at the open wardrobe. Her clothes from home were certainly not appropriate for the day. She absentmindedly gnawed on her bottom lip.

“Hello?” Jemma looked up to see Peggy in the doorway, washed and dressed with her hair set.

Jemma raised her eyebrows in astonishment. “Wow, I’m surprised you’ve made it up all those stairs and managed to get ready.”

“I’ll be having a word with Howard,” Peggy said dryly, “there are too bloody many. But a little injury won’t stop me looking my best- and Sousa gave me a hand.”

“You’re looking brighter.”

“All down to you.”

“Well, not really.” Jemma said bashfully.

Peggy’s eyes drifted over to the wardrobe. “Oh, don’t bother finding anything decent in here, follow me.”

Peggy walked down the hall, a slight stiffness in her frame the only sign that she’d been injured, and Jemma followed a little unsurely. They arrived in another large bedroom on the front face of the house. Jemma spotted a distinctive red hat, gold lipstick and scarlet bottle of nail varnish arranged on the dressing table.

“This is my room when I stay.” Peggy explained. Jemma nodded silently, her eyes picking up the gun just visible in a half-open drawer.

Peggy beckoned her over to the wardrobe. “You’re welcome to borrow something of mine.”

Jemma’s heart stuttered. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. As lovely as that silk robe is- truly, I’m rather jealous- you can’t really wear that outside, and your other clothes are a little conspicuous.” Peggy grinned, pulling open the double doors. “Are you alright?”

“I- yes, just a little overwhelmed. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Peggy laughed. “You’re not dreaming, Jemma. Now, let’s see, what would suit you...?” 

Peggy spent the next few minutes pulling various skirts, trousers and blouses from their hangers and holding them up to Jemma. She crept shyly forwards and explored the wardrobe herself, almost afraid to mark the beautiful clothes with her fingerprints.

“How about this?” Peggy said. She presented an olive green, knee-length skirt and a cream collared blouse. Peggy stooped to reach the shoes then stopped herself. “Could you just…?”

Jemma picked up the pair she was pointing at, low-heeled and black. “Hopefully they’ll fit.” She said with a nervous laugh.

“You’ll have to try them on and see.” Peggy frowned. “Undergarments next.”

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s really necessary.” Jemma said hurriedly. “I’ll just make do.”

“Jemma, if you’re really telling the truth, the only things you have with you were the clothes you wore yesterday. Stop fussing and let me help you.” Peggy opened a chest of drawers and held up various underwear. “Hmm… try this.” She flung a short, high-waisted satin underskirt at Jemma, then a peach-coloured bra.

Jemma examined it curiously. “Fashion history wasn’t really my thing at school.” She wrinkled her nose. “Why is the bra so pointy?”

Peggy stared at her and laughed. “You say such things so casually, I still don’t know what to think. That’s just the fashion. Try it on and I’ll help you adjust it.” Peggy subtly turned away whilst Jemma wriggled into the undergarments, then she deftly adjusted the straps for her and handed Jemma her chosen outfit. “We’ll make a real 40s girl of you yet.”

The material was soft and luxurious, and smelt of fresh, floral washing powder. Jemma’s throat felt dry. Her hands fumbled as she tucked her blouse into the skirt, and she just about managed to buckle the shoes- which surprisingly, fit quite well.

Peggy stepped back and observed her. “The blouse is a little big, but it’ll do.” She dug through one of the drawers and produced a thick brown belt. “This will finish the look off.” Peggy gathered the loose material at the back of Jemma’s blouse into her skirt, and secured the outfit with the belt, concealing the excess fabric with a stylish touch. “We just need to set your hair, and then you’re ready.”

“Ok.” Jemma said, and for the first time that day, she felt herself relax into the process and enjoy it. “Are you sure you can manage?”

“Absolutely.” Peggy replied firmly.

The hairdryer was heavy and slow, but Jemma was content to sit quietly as Peggy stood behind her and styled her hair. A good while later, Peggy tapped her shoulder. “There. Perfect.” Jemma put a hand to her head, feeling the soft, smooth waves. She felt a little spark of excitement and apprehension. “Come on, take a look.”

Jemma walked over to the full-length mirror, her eyes avoiding her reflection. She took a deep, measured breath, then looked up. “Oh my- wow…” She gaped at herself in the mirror, speechless. She hardly recognised herself. Peggy stood just behind her, smiling with what looked like pride.

The woman in the mirror was tall and slim, the high-waisted skirt and thick belt giving her an hourglass figure she didn’t know she could have. The skirt swept her knees and she stood strong and elegant in her heels. Her hair was styled in loose, shiny waves, set by hairspray and Peggy’s capable hands in a way that appeared effortless.

“Here, the finishing touch.” Peggy said, passing her a pale lipstick. Jemma smoothed it across her lips in a daze. “You look amazing.” She said with satisfaction. “Jemma?” She placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I- yes, I’m fine- just… this is a lot to take in.”

“It’s ok, just take a minute.” Peggy said kindly.

“Yesterday morning I was at the Lighthouse with my family and now I’m here, with you, in the 1940s… I just-” Jemma swallowed. “Every time we face something new, I think it’ll be the end; either we die or we fix things and life finally settles down. But it never _ends_. I’m so tired of everyone I love being in danger _all the time_ , of losing Fitz over and over again and of my family driving themselves sick with worry because they have no idea where I am, or if I’m even alive.” Jemma’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“I’m sorry, Jemma.” Peggy said softly. “It sounds like you and your team are really close.”

“We are. I love them all so much, we’ve been through so much together, and lost so much too.”

“I know a little of how you feel.” Peggy admitted, folding her hands carefully in front of her. “The constant anxiety that you keep pushing away, the never-ending struggle of the job- but the thrill of it too, the friendships you form.”

“I joined SHIE- the organisation I work for,” Jemma corrected hurriedly, “when I was so young- and I don’t regret it- I so wanted to be a part of something important, push myself and my talent, be with people like me, and somehow, one thing led to another. I’ve always held onto the reason I started all this, and the inspiration I found in-“ Jemma’s eyes flickered away. “-in certain people…”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed. “Look, Jemma, I’ve said before that there’s something you’re not telling me, and now I’m sure of it. I want to trust you, but I need you to trust _me_.”

“Oh, I do.” Jemma said hurriedly. “More than you know-”

“There it is again!” Peggy exclaimed. “Come on, Jemma, I deserve an explanation.”

Jemma was torn. “I want to, I really do, but I don’t know what kind of effect this could have! Paradoxes and alternate timelines and altered futures…” She began pacing. “But you deserve an explanation! And I want to tell you!” She rubbed a hand across her cheek. “Oh, god, Fitz is going to kill me.”

Jemma turned to face Peggy. “Let’s… sit down.” She said, pulling up a second chair. Peggy walked hesitantly over and sank slowly into the seat. “Just let me say everything I have to say, despite how crazy it might sound.”

Peggy nodded silently, her expression almost nervous. “Ok…”

“The organisation I work for is called SHIELD, short for Strategic Homeland Intervention and Enforcement Logistics Division.”

“Isn’t that a bit of a mouthful?” Peggy remarked, oblivious.

Jemma couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, just you wait.” There was no going back now. She had officially changed history- or history as she knew it. “SHIELD works to protect the innocent from the extraordinary, working outside of law and government. We have three main departments; Science and Technology, Communications, and Operations. Cadets are trained in one of these areas and sent out across the world to complete research, assignments and missions. We’ve faced huge challenges, and in 2018, there are very few of us left. But we are the shield.”

“I see.” Peggy said. “When was SHIELD formed?”

Jemma pressed her lips together in anticipation, her chest tight. “We don’t have an exact date, because it was formed in secret by two founding members. The thing is, Agent Carter, that all depends on you.”

“What?” She said in astonishment. A nervous laugh escaped her. “What are you saying?”

“ _You_ are SHIELD, Peggy. You are its founding member, the personification of its values. We owe you everything.”

“I- I founded- I mean, I found- SHIELD?” Peggy said in disbelief. “But- but, I don’t understand…”

“You must have had thoughts by now.” Jemma said. “About breaking away from the restrictions and limitations of the SSR, of creating something that you believe in more than anything, to honour the man you lost…”

Peggy nodded slowly, her eyes full of fear. “I have.” She whispered. “I even have a notebook full of my thoughts… right here, in the other room…”

“I’ve been frightened to tell you because I don’t know what kind of effect it could have. In mine and Fitz’s future, we never met, obviously. You came up with this yourself. Now, things have changed. I don’t want to tell you too much in case I influence you even more…”

“You said SHIELD is still running in 2018, and that it was a huge organisation. That was down to… me?”

“Peggy, you are one of the most important women in the world, even if not everyone knows your name. You have made such a huge difference.”

“But that means I have to do everything exactly as it’s supposed to be!” Peggy exclaimed.

“No.” Jemma said firmly. “We can’t think like that. You’re not even supposed to know this. I’ve only told you because I know you are strong enough to carry the burden. Please, just follow your heart and your instincts and everything will happen as it should.” 

“This is unbelievable.” Peggy said, shaking her head.

“As tempting as it is, I won’t and can’t tell you anything else about SHIELD or the future. I trust you completely. You have everything you need to build SHIELD already- all the knowledge and the experience and the emotion.”

“I was thinking about Steve again, recently.” Peggy said softly. Her eyes filled with memories and Jemma felt a shiver run down her spine. She held her breath without realising. “About how loyal and selfless and brave he was… I began to think about forming an organisation in his honour, to follow the values he stood for- and that I do too. The world needs more men like Steve Rogers, but none will ever truly take his place.”

Jemma felt a stab in her chest, thinking of Steve in the future, alive and fighting with the Avengers, then remembering that Peggy could never know. Telling her that he was frozen in the ice with the potential to be rescued- and that he would be, decades in the future- was one step too far, one thing that Jemma just couldn’t tell Peggy. Her heart physically ached. All she could do was nod numbly.

“I loved him.” Peggy admitted. “But it all ended too soon. Steve was a truly incredible man, and I still miss him. My grief will never go away completely.” Her eyes glistened with tears, and Jemma felt a lump of emotion lodge in her throat too. “I didn’t think there would be anyone else for me. But then I met Sousa, and I’m grateful for his love every day.”

Jemma nodded. “I understand, in a way- though I’m not saying it’s exactly the same. There was another man, once, who I relied upon during the darkest months of my life, and I think I loved him too. But then I lost him and everything changed again. Fitz is my forever. I can see that now.”

“People can influence your life so much.” Peggy said, smiling sadly. “Steve is dead and lost but I carry him with me every day. If what you say is true and everything happens as it should, he will change the world yet again.”

“ _You_ change the world, Peggy.” Jemma’s voice cracked. “You changed _my_ world.” 

Peggy’s face caved with emotion and she took Jemma’s hand in both of hers, holding them tight.

A tear ran down Jemma’s cheek. “This is why meeting you means so much to me, why I reacted so strangely when I saw you at the SSR. I’m here today, now, because of you. Everyone knows the story of Agent Carter and Captain America, but I truly came to know you when I joined SHIELD. Your strength has carried me through so much; when I felt like I couldn’t cope, couldn’t take any more, I imagined you there beside me, and I found the strength to carry on, to wipe away my tears and push through it. You are an _incredible_ woman, Peggy Carter, and I- I’m _honoured_ to be here with you right now.”

“Jemma, I-” Peggy seemed lost for words. “No one’s ever-” She shook her head and wiped her face with her hands. “Gosh, look at me-” She cleared her throat. “I’m truly humbled, I could never have expected this… and Jemma? I’m just as proud to be here with _you_. You’re a remarkable woman and I’d feel I’d achieved something in my life if I was _half_ as brave and compassionate and intelligent as you are.”

Jemma’s face lit up with a smile and tears spilled from her eyes. Her lips trembled and she impulsively pulled Peggy into a hug. Peggy’s eyebrows arched in surprise and she found herself getting choked up again. Instead, she held tightly onto Jemma and realised that whatever happened, she had found a true and rare friend in Jemma Simmons.

After laughing a little in embarrassment, both flushed and red-eyed, they had a little time to sit and talk, taking in the view from outside, laughing about trivial things and recounting their stories, realising how much they had in common. Peggy appeared to have accepted Fitzsimmons’ story by then, their honesty and overwhelming knowledge about so many things proof enough.

“Wow…” Came an unexpected voice from the doorway. Fitz was staring at Jemma, his mouth gaping open. “You look- incredible.”

Jemma stood up and smoothed out her skirt, smiling at Fitz’s expression. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” He was wearing a light grey three-piece, complete with a tie and shiny black shoes. “I like you in a suit.” She teased, to conceal the fluttering she felt in her chest.

He tugged at his collar. “It’s too bloody warm for this. But still…” He looked Jemma up and down once more. “Simmons, you’re _beautiful_. The 40s fashion was made for you.”

Jemma stepped up to him and rested a hand on his chest. “You too.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and slid an arm around his waist, relaxing into his shoulder.

“You ok?” Fitz asked, looking between Simmons and Peggy. “You’d been up here a while so I thought I’d check on you.”

“Never better.” Peggy replied, getting slowly to her feet. She winced almost imperceptibly, but continued as if she felt no pain.

“We just had a much-needed chat.” Jemma said, smiling at Peggy.


	7. Chapter 7

“I rang the office and I’m still off-duty for today; Sousa will take over while I’m forced to ‘rest and recover’.” Peggy rolled her eyes. “He’s just left. Jarvis has gone home to see his wife; they’re supposed to be talking to someone about the adoption process today.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Jemma exclaimed.

“I’m sure Sousa will have everything under control, you deserve to have a moment to breathe.” Fitz added.

“Oh, we have plenty of other things to do today.” Peggy said briskly. “We have a lot to talk about. Jemma has told me a little of SHIELD and of my future-”

Fitz gasped. “Jemma! What did you say?!”

Peggy held up a hand to cut him off. “Just enough to fully gain my trust, and no more. I understand the risks. Now, where to begin… we have more to discuss about how you got here, and how to proceed…”

“I’ve been thinking about something.” Jemma said quietly. “We have no idea how things will unfold, if we can find a way to get home, or if it’s even possible… Our friends will never know what happened to us, and they’ll want answers- they deserve closure. I think there’s a way we can get a message to them.”

“Jemma, you’re speaking like you’ve already given up!” Peggy said in concern. “We’ve not even approached the subject yet; you’ve been here less than 24 hours.”

“I know, but…” 

“Simmons, what are you suggesting?” Fitz asked, frowning.

“What if we- if we wrote a letter, and gave it to someone trustworthy, putting a process in place so that it was passed down through generations and kept safe, right until an appointed moment in time in which it was delivered to SHIELD.” She looked anxiously at Fitz. “We know exactly where they are when we disappear; if we could get a message to the Lighthouse, they would get some form of explanation…”

“Bloody hell Jemma, you’ve been watching way too much Doctor Who…” 

“Says the man who skipped an entire day at the Academy to recover from one of the finales.” Jemma replied heatedly. Fitz gaped at her and fumbled for a reply. Neither of them registered Peggy’s look of utter confusion.

“It could work!” She continued passionately. “We’d have to hope that it was kept safe and that whoever looked after it followed the plan, but why shouldn’t we try?”

“I- I don’t know, Jemma. The chance of success would be slim. The letter could get lost, thrown away, someone could die suddenly and the chain be broken. They might not be able to reach the Lighthouse, the team could be too caught up in the mission to receive it. Who knows if they even manage to defeat Talbot and the Remorath! The world could be destroyed like before.” He winced, glancing at Peggy. “Just- forget I said that.”

Peggy blinked.

“Fitz, I think _this_ certainly breaks the loop.” Jemma said. “And I know, it’s crazy, and so many things could go wrong, but… we might as well try. What do we have to lose?”

Peggy brought them paper and a pen, then squeezed Jemma’s shoulder and left them to it. It took a long time to find the right words, a few disagreements, and a few tears from them both, but eventually, they were satisfied. Fitz signed his name at the bottom, then slipped the paper into the envelope, propping it up to the vase on the table. Fitz pulled Jemma into his arms with a deep, heavy sigh. Writing those words had brought them back to reality and made them truly realise what they were up against.

“I have an idea.” Fitz suddenly said with a grin.

“What?” Jemma said suspiciously.

He disappeared, leaving Jemma alone at the table, the letter seeming to stare at her from the corner of her eye. A few moments later he reappeared, with Peggy by his side and a camera in his hand. “We should take a photo of us all, and put a copy in the letter.”

Jemma’s face relaxed into a smile, thinking of her friends’ faces when they saw visual proof of the three of them. “Oh, go on then.” 

“Stark has rigged this one up with a timer.” Peggy said. “ _And_ it prints it immediately, without having to develop it in a dark room!” 

Fitzsimmons exchanged a glance and Jemma smothered a giggle. “Um, wow.” Fitz said. “Anyway, let’s do this.”

Fitz placed the camera on the table and adjusted it so that it was the right height. He clicked a button, then walked hurriedly back to Jemma and Peggy. He weaved his arm through Jemma’s and rested a hand on her hip. They smiled and waited and the camera flashed. Fitz darted back and picked up the camera, smiling in amusement as a photo slid out of the bottom. 

“A man ahead of his time…” His face clouded with emotion as he looked at the photo and their grinning, disbelieving faces. Simmons stood in the middle of Fitz and Peggy, their arms around each other’s waists like old friends. He could imagine the team having to do a double take, their elegant 40s outfits fitting right in.

“We’ll have to get a copy for you, too.” Peggy said softly from over his shoulder. “Perhaps you’d like to keep one.”

“I’d love to.” Fitz replied, smiling at her. “But first we need to figure out who to trust our letter with.” 

“Of course.” Peggy said, placing her hands on her hips and thinking. “I’d be honoured to take on the responsibility, if you like. I could duplicate the letter and keep a copy in the files at work, then transfer it to SHIELD when I hopefully set it up. I’d make sure it was safe and secret.” She grinned, but Fitz wasn’t convinced that was a good idea.

“I’m not sure… Organisations aren’t always as secure as they seem, or it could be uncovered too soon.” He exchanged a look with Simmons, thinking of the eventual fall of SHIELD. Their letter in Hydra’s hands could be catastrophic. “I’m not saying that I don’t trust you, or that SHIELD won’t be successful.” Fitz added hurriedly. “But perhaps it would be safer with someone a little outside of the circle…”

“I agree.” Jemma said. “I’d trust you personally with anything, but like Fitz said, if something as important as this is left filed away for such a long time, it might not turn out as we planned.”

“Hmm…” Peggy said, nibbling her lip absentmindedly, her eyes drifting elsewhere. “Yes, I suppose you’re right... How about Jarvis?” She suggested. “He’s a good friend of mine, and has connections to myself and the SSR, but isn’t strictly one of us. He may seem a little eccentric but he’s a very loyal, organised man. His wife Ana keeps him in line and could be let in on our plan. They’re hoping to have children of their own, so there should be someone to deliver the message once… well, once he gets too old or passes away, I suppose.” 

Fitzsimmons looked at each other. “That could work.” Jemma said.

“Yeah… Obviously you’d be in on the secret so you could work together to make sure it reaches the team.” 

“I’ll keep reminding Mr Jarvis in case he forgets about it in his old age.” Peggy joked. “We’ll do this together.”

Jemma felt a little stab of sadness in her chest. They would both die before 2018, Peggy just a few years before. It hurt to think of the future that way, but at least Peggy seemed to understand what had to be done.

“Ok, so…. Now what?” Jemma asked, tearing herself back to the conversation. “I suppose we should write down some instructions- coordinates and dates and so on.”

“It feels bizarre that we’re planning this now, but nothing will actually happen for decades.” Fitz said, scratching his chin. “So much will happen before 2018.”

“And yet, in our future, moments after we disappeared, this letter will hopefully be on its way to our friends.” Simmons let out a sigh, rubbing her forehead as if she was trying to rid herself of a headache.

“Right,” Fitz said, “dates and coordinates.” 

He sat down at the table and picked up the envelope. Peggy handed him the photo and he slid it in next to the letter- which he couldn’t bear to read again. “Jemma.” He said, looking up. “Here, your writing is neater.” He stood up again and gave Jemma the pen.

“Alright.” She said, sliding into the chair. She tapped the pen on the table absentmindedly as she thought. “So, it was May 2018.”

“The 18th.” Fitz confirmed.

“Yes. And it must have been… early afternoon?”

“God, this makes me head hurt.” Fitz said. “Yeah, must have been. We were on the ship together, and the team was split up… But we don’t know if they got off the ship, when or if they beat Talbot, how it ended with the Remorath, and whether the Earth cracked open and it was all for nothing! Oh, shit.” Fitz cursed, looking at Peggy again. “Trust me, this is all… irrelevant, don’t worry.”

“I can hardly understand a word you’re saying.” Peggy said mildly. “The bit about the planet blowing up is a little concerning but perhaps context is all.” 

“Sorry, Peggy.” Jemma said. “We just can’t tell you.” She shot a look at Fitz. “We’ll make sure we _don’t_ discuss things in front of you in the future.”

“Says you, Simmons.” Fitz said under his breath. 

“Fitz, I had to!” Jemma replied in offence. “Besides, I didn’t tell Peggy anything that she didn’t already have in mind- well, not much…”

“Oh no, only that she forms a world-wide organisation that fights aliens and terrorists- oh, and that you _love_ her and she’s your _idol_.”

“ _Fitz_.” Jemma gasped. “Don’t mock me! She’s your hero too!”

“Oh, bloody hell-”

Peggy cleared her throat loudly. Colour rushed into Jemma’s cheeks and Fitz looked embarrassed.

“Right, sorry.” Jemma said. “I didn’t mean to-"

“Don’t bother.” Fitz said. “It’s fine. Come on, let’s sort this out,”

After realising that the best plan of action was to disregard any future events or obstacles that the team might have faced after their disappearance, they decided on a time a couple of hours after their encounter with the Remorath. That gave time for the team to realise they were gone and allowed for the fact that their ‘postman’ would likely not arrive exactly at the second they wanted, despite rigorous planning. Someone would be at the Lighthouse to receive it, and if their ‘postman’ followed Fitzsimmons’ careful instructions, would be standing at a place in the direct view of the cameras. Who knew if it would work? But it was worth a shot.


	8. Chapter 8

“What the hell?” Daisy Johnson’s voice dropped to a mutter as her keen eyes were drawn suddenly to a figure on one of the nearby computer screens.

“You don’t agree with our plan?” May asked. The others’ heads swivelled to look at Daisy.

“What?” She asked. “Oh, that’s not what I meant.” 

“We’re _trying_ to save Fitzsimmons!” Yo-Yo exclaimed.

“I get this is difficult for you.” Mack said gently. “It’s difficult for us all. But we need to figure out where Fitzsimmons are and how we can help them.”

“I know, but-” Daisy turned back to the screen, tapping on the keyboard and squinting at the pixelated image. She waved their questions aside. “Just… hang on a moment.”

“Daisy?” May asked, joining her at her side. “You ok?”

“What is it?” Deke said.

Daisy stabbed a finger at one of the screens. “Look. There’s someone there.”

May leant forwards, her eyes scanning the footage. “What-”

“Look at what he’s holding.” Daisy said urgently. “And he’s definitely shouting something.”

“Guys, what is it?” Yo-Yo asked. She exchanged a confused look with Mack, then craned a look over Daisy’s shoulder.

A man was standing at the edge of the cliff, a heavy leather satchel on his shoulder and a smart brown coat flapping wildly in the wind. He alternated between waving his arms like a drowning man and holding up a sign. He was facing the Lighthouse itself, staring directly into their supposedly-hidden camera on the towering white walls. Daisy felt her heart leap into her throat when she finally managed to zoom in enough to read his sign.

‘ _I KNOW WHERE FITZSIMMONS ARE’_ , it read simply, painted in bold black letters. He was still shouting something, but the wind was obscuring his words.

“Can we work out what he’s saying?” May asked, gripping Daisy’s arm. 

“Yeah- our software will decipher it.” Her face was locked in a frown, her fingers working away at the keyboard. “Here.”

The screen zoomed in on the man’s face, and despite the lack of focus, a series of letters began to appear on the screen, being deciphered like a code being cracked. Gradually, they began to make sense of his words. “I… know… where… Fitzsimmons… are…. I… have… a… message… from… them… Please… let… me… talk… to… you… Jemma… Simmons… and… Leopald… Fitz… sent… me… Daisy… Johnson… Melinda…. May… Philip… Coulson… Elena… Rodriguez…. Alphonso… Mackenzie… Deke… Shaw…” He started shouting again, saying he knew where Fitzsimmons were, that he could help them. He knew all their names, and evidently, that there was a top-secret bunker right beneath his feet.

“Who is he?” Yo-Yo demanded. “How can he know all of this?”

“I’ve never seen that man before in my life.” May said. “We only lost Fitzsimmons a few hours ago; how is he here? He’s not Remorath, so where did he come from?” 

“It’s a trap, it must be.” Yo-Yo said. “We can’t let him in.” 

“It could be a trap,” Daisy said, “but he says he has information about Fitzsimmons! He looks like a regular dude off the streets, I don’t get it.”

“But he knows Fitzsimmons are missing! He could help us find them!” Deke insisted.

“Come on, Deke, he’s probably in league with the Remorath and will kill us the moment we open our doors!” Yo-Yo said scathingly.

Daisy groaned loudly in frustration. “We should never have left Fitzsimmons! If we’d have stayed on the ship, we might have been able to help them! They’ll think we abandoned them.” Daisy voiced the one thing everyone had been thinking. “Fitzsimmons could be dead because we couldn’t save them.”

“We couldn’t have done anything else.” May said. “We only just escaped with our lives, and we had no idea where Fitzsimmons were! They could have escaped themselves for all we knew. I’m not proud of it either, but we’re no help to them dead.”

“How does this guy even know we’re here?” Mack said, his arms folded across his chest. “No one knows this location.”

“I think we should let him in. We put him in handcuffs as soon as he gets through the door, make sure we’re all armed, and question him in a cell. It just doesn’t make sense. We should hear what he has to say.” Daisy said. 

“Hang on a moment, let’s just think about this before we jump to any decisions.” Mack replied.

“Fitzsimmons might not have a moment.” Daisy replied passionately. “I’ll just quake him if he tries anything.”

“Guys...”

“Coulson!” In their discussion, they hadn’t noticed Coulson enter the room. He was leaning heavily against a pillar and watching them all, his arm gripped around the stand holding his iv drip. His voice was weak and his face tinged grey. He looked like he could collapse at any moment. Daisy rushed over to him and wound an arm around his waist, supporting him. “You shouldn’t be out of bed; you need to sit down.”

He let himself be guided to a chair and sank down heavily into it, his hands shaking. “I heard you all arguing… I had- to help.”

“We’re not… arguing,” Daisy said defensively, “we were just… discussing.”

“Right.” Coulson managed a weak smile. “This is about Fitzsimmons?” 

“Yeah.” May said. Her eyes were filled with pain, watching Coulson struggle.

“Well then, what are you waiting for? Let’s get the guy inside.”

Daisy looked around at her team, then before she could change her mind, ran out of the room to get the quinjet started up. Mack followed her, and the rest of the team could only watch and wait in apprehension.

\---------------------------

Daisy leapt off the quinjet the moment it had landed, closely followed by an armed Mack.

“Daisy,” he hissed, “careful.”

She nodded and slowed down a little. They approached the man, whose eyes were wide after witnessing a hole open up in the sea to let a plane fly right out of it. His sign hung limply at his side.

“G-good day.” He stuttered.

“Hey.” Daisy said cautiously, taking in his appearance. He was tall and lean, with a long nose, darting grey-blue eyes- and he was British, apparently. His temples shone with perspiration in the bright, cool sunlight.

“I’m Mack, Director of SHIELD, and this is Agent Johnson.”

The man swallowed. “Of course, of course. A pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Stephen Jarvis.”

“What do you mean, ‘finally meet us’?” Daisy demanded. “Who are you and how do you know about Fitzsimmons?"

“I’ve come as a messenger of sorts. Fitzsimmons sent me themselves… er, in a way. I have nothing to do with their disappearance, I assure you.” 

Daisy stared him down, Mack standing silently at her side, gun poised.

Jarvis’ eyes flickered nervously to the weapon. “Please, can you… put that away…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple lurching visibly in his throat. “I mean you no harm, I’m here to assist you in your search for Fitzsimmons. I know how important this is.”

“How?” Daisy asked shrewdly. “You’ve still not explained who you are and where you’re from.” 

“This will tell you everything.” Jarvis said, swinging his bag around to his front. Mack and Daisy reacted immediately, preparing to shoot or quake. Jarvis realised his mistake, flinging his hands above his head. “Wait! I’m sorry, please don’t shoot, I wasn’t thinking…” He slowly lowered his hands. “I just want to get a letter out of my bag.”

Mack nodded at Daisy and she grabbed the satchel from him. Jarvis stumbled, fumbling with the strap around his neck before he lost his footing completely. Daisy opened the bag and thumbed through its contents, relaxing slightly once she realised there was nothing harmful inside. She noted a wallet, a bottle of water, a map, travel documents, a mobile phone, a small toiletry bag, a tightly rolled change of clothes, and tucked inside a sealed plastic wallet, a letter.

“He’s clean.” She said to Mack.

He nodded and stepped up to Jarvis. “Hands above your head.” Jarvis obliged immediately, and Mack went through his pockets and patted him down. “Same here.” He stepped back. “So, who sent you?”

“I told you, I was sent by Leopald Fitz and Jemma Simmons, with very clear instructions on how to reach you.”

“Where are they?” Daisy asked. “Are they safe?”

Jarvis sighed. “This is where it gets complicated.”

“I don’t want complicated, I want answers.” Mack said.

“Look, we need to get you inside and question you in private.” Daisy said, glancing around. “We’re too exposed here.”

“The simplest thing to do is to give you this letter. It’s from your friends and it will tell you everything.”

Daisy frowned. “Or you could just come with us and _explain_?”

Jarvis’ gaze wandered to the sea, where the plane had appeared from minutes before, his eyes filled with longing. “You have no idea how much I wish to step inside your base and meet you all properly… but that is not what I’m here to do.” He pointed to the bag in Daisy’s hand. “If I could…?” She gave it back to him silently, watching as he carefully removed the letter from amongst his other belongings. He smoothed out his coat, straightened up, and held out the letter.

“Please, take this. It’s an honour to be the one to deliver it to you.”

Daisy slowly extended her hand, caution and confusion written all over her face, and accepted the document. “I still don’t understand…” She said desperately.

“You will.” Jarvis promised. He shrugged his bag over his shoulder, then looked at both Mack and Daisy in turn. “It’s been an honour.” A strange look of emotion crossed his face. “My grandfather would be proud.” He briefly bowed his head. “Good luck to you all, I hope I was of help.”

Before either could reply, he took one last look at them both, turned on his heel, and walked away.

“Wait…” Daisy said, her voice barely more than a whisper, but the wind took her words and left her to watch Stephen Jarvis walk away, the letter grasped in her right hand. 


	9. Chapter 9

Daisy didn’t speak a word until they got back to the base. The letter stayed clutched in her hand, her face set in stone.

Deke ambushed her the moment she stepped inside. “Are you alright? What happened? We only got parts of what was going on.”

Daisy ignored him.

May squeezed her arm and spoke quietly. “You did good.”

Daisy momentarily took her hand, before turning her attention to the rest of the anxiously-waiting team. Coulson was sitting silently in a chair, watching her through heavy eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but found that she couldn’t find the right words. 

Mack swiftly stepped in. “I don’t really know what to tell you guys,” he began, glancing at Daisy, “I don’t quite understand myself. The man claims he was given clear instructions by Fitzsimmons on how to find us, and he was told to deliver us a letter that will somehow explain everything.”

Yo-Yo shook her head in bewilderment. “That’s crazy, there are so many loopholes to his story. Fitzsimmons only disappeared a few hours ago, so how could they have managed to write a letter and give it to some guy down here?”

“I have no idea.” Daisy said. “But it was weird… he didn’t seem to be an agent himself or conspiring with the Remorath. He had clearly travelled a long way to reach us and seemed prepared in advance, and-” She hesitated, thinking back to the expression on Jarvis’ face and the way he spoke to them both. “It just doesn’t add up. This somehow meant a lot to him, and he said something about his grandfather…?”

May frowned. “His grandfather? What was his name again…?”

Before Daisy could reply, Deke interrupted. “Shouldn’t we open it? The letter? If it helps us find Fitzsimmons, we shouldn’t waste any time.”

“Yeah, I guess so…”

Daisy glanced down at the envelope, still sealed in the plastic wallet. The paper looked old, faded and yellowed and a little crumpled at the corners. She felt her heart begin to quicken and her stomach knot with nerves. She swallowed, feeling everyone’s eyes on her. Daisy peeled back the seal and slid the envelope out of its protective wallet, wishing her hands weren’t trembling. She smoothed a finger across its worn surface, her eyes skimming the words on the envelope. It was definitely Simmons’ handwriting, with the exact coordinates, date and time of their own location written neatly in the centre. She ran her finger along the envelope, the thick paper tearing only slightly as it opened. Hesitating for a moment, she unfolded the letter and began to read aloud.

_“Dear Daisy, Coulson, May, Mack, Yo-Yo and Deke,_

_First of all, we want to say that we’re so sorry for the pain and worry we must be causing you yet again. We hope this letter reached you, and that you got to read these words._

_We are alive and well, but not in the way you might expect. The Remorath nearly caught us, but we used their teleport to escape, and ended up in 1940s LA purely by accident._

_We can still hardly believe this is true; we met SSR Agent and founder of SHIELD, Peggy Carter, as well as Edwin Jarvis, Daniel Sousa, and so many more. She has been incredible- they all have- accepting our story and trying their best to help us. I wish you could have met her too, she’s even more wonderful in person; intelligent, witty, elegant, full of compassion, and- you get the gist._

_We miss you so much, and we’ve only been here a day. We’ll try our very best to find a solution and come home, but it’s going to be hard, and we already feel daunted and drained by the prospect and everything else that’s been happening lately, and we’re not sure if we can pull this one off._

_If this is the last opportunity we ever get to communicate with you, we want you to know how very grateful we are for everything, from day one of being recruited to now, despite every tragedy we’ve faced and everything we’ve lost. We gained so much more, and we love you all so dearly. You’re our family._

_Our only request is that you speak to our parents. It breaks our hearts to say this but please tell them that we were killed during a mission, quickly and painlessly and together. That’s the most important thing. The truth would destroy them even more than the news of our deaths. We both stopped telling them the extent of our missions long ago. They deserve closure if nothing else._

_We could carry on writing forever but there’s no point in delaying the inevitable. We’ll try everything we possibly can- we can promise you that. We’ll work harder than ever before to find a way home, and with the help of Peggy and the SSR, perhaps we’ll make a miracle happen and be back with you soon, but if that’s not to be, then at least we got this chance to say goodbye._

[Here the handwriting changed]

_Lastly Daisy, I’m sorry. I never in my right mind would have put you through that trauma, and I regret that the circumstance forced me into that situation. The guilt of how I hurt you tears me up every day and I hope that you can move forwards- I can’t expect you to forgive me, but perhaps you can think of me as the Fitz I used to be._

_We’ll think of you all every day and hold you close to our hearts._

_All our love,_

_Fitz and Jemma_

_12th July 1948”_

Daisy drew in a ragged breath, her throat dry and scratchy from trying to keep her voice steady and holding back tears. She’d been close to breaking down several times and had to stop reading for a few seconds, before composing herself and carrying on.

She was met with a stunned silence. No one knew what to say or how to react. The feeling of shock was palpable. Daisy scanned through the letter again, her brow furrowed and her vision still slightly blurred with tears.

“I- I don’t…?”

“What the hell?” Deke exclaimed. “What- I mean…” He shook his head, looking desperately from one person to the other.

“Can this be true?” May asked. “Is it- a forgery or, or a fake, somehow?”

Daisy shook her head. “I don’t know. This definitely matches Simmons’ handwriting- and Fitz’s too. And why would someone make something like this up? I don’t understand…” 

She opened the envelope again, and her heart leapt. “Wait, there’s something else.” She pulled out the photo, unfolded it and turned it upright, and let out a laugh of disbelief. “No way…”

The photo had a sharp crease down the centre and its colour had faded a little, but the photo itself was still clear to see. After staring at it for several seconds, her eyes wide and her mouth stretched into a grin, she passed it around the group. Several minutes and a fair amount of disbelieving cursing followed.

Daisy took it to Coulson herself, still resting in his chair but more alert now. He took it from her with slightly shaking hands and stared at it in wonder. “Peggy Carter…” He whispered, unable to take his eyes off them. Daisy could feel the pride and the emotion washing over him. This meant more to him than anyone else, she realised.

“Well look at that.” Mack said with a laugh. “Do you think it’s photoshopped, or is it real?” 

“You’re the expert on this stuff.” Yo-Yo said. “What do you think?”

“I- I think it’s real…” She said, smoothing a gentle finger across her friends’ faces. “But we can check.”

She hurried over to the control panel and found the scanner. “This should detect how old the paper is.” She explained, sliding it in and tapping at the keyboard. They watched in a tense silence as the photograph was scanned, and information appeared on one of the screens. Daisy’s eyebrows arched in disbelief. “It is, it’s real. This paper is from 1947, and the scanner doesn’t detect any tampering with the photo itself. Guys, Fitzsimmons are stuck in the 1940s.”

A shocked silence followed her words once again. Daisy stared at the photo, of her two best friends dressed in 40s clothes and looking like they belonged there, arm in arm with the woman they looked up to most in the world. She read the letter again, and finally, some of her numbness began to fade away and an overwhelming wave of emotion began to rise.

Certain phrases echoed in her head _; not sure if we can pull this one off… how very grateful we are for everything… got this chance to say goodbye… love you all so dearly… you’re our family…_ And perhaps the most painful words on the page; _the guilt of how I hurt you tears me up… think of me as the Fitz I used to be..._

She felt everyone looking at her, waiting for her response, felt her breaths quicken and her chest tighten. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, and she wasn’t sure she could keep it together this time. Clutching both the photo and the letter, she choked down her emotion and ran out of the room.

Daisy just made it out of the doorway before loud, all-consuming sobs racked through her. She stumbled, half blind with tears, through the base and into her room, quaking the door closed behind her. She slid down the wall and put her head in her hands.

After a while her sobs subsided, leaving only a dull pounding in her head and a few stray tears leaking down her cheeks. She sighed heavily, wiping her face with her hands, and leaned her head against the wall. Her hand came away with blood from a reopened wound on her forehead- injuries she hadn’t even had the time to process amidst all the chaos. A gentle knock at the door disturbed her. Daisy closed her eyes briefly, dreading having to talk to someone.

“Daisy? It’s me, can I come in?” May.

Daisy felt some of the pressure in her chest subside, and she raised her voice to reply. “Yeah, come on in…”

The door opened slowly and May stepped inside. She gave a small, sad smile and joined her on the floor. “Hey.”

Daisy grimaced. “I didn’t handle that very well, did I?”

May looked at her seriously. “Daisy, you read that whole damn letter in front of us all by yourself. I don’t think I could have done it. You were strong, I’m proud of you.”

Daisy felt a jolt in her chest at her words, but remained unconvinced. “May… I ran out there crying, I could hardly keep it together before then.”

May pulled a face. “Come on, Daisy, tears don’t mean you’re weak. You led the team there, you stepped up.”

Daisy just sighed and stared at the opposite wall. May hesitated for a moment, then put her arm around Daisy’s shoulder. Daisy leaned in, grateful to share some of her worry. May understood her, and she was glad it was her that had knocked on the door and not someone else. 

“What are we gonna do…?” Daisy said quietly.

She felt May sigh, trying to think of a reply. “I don’t know, I really don’t.”

Daisy’s eyes fell on a framed photo in her room, of Fitz and Simmons and Daisy about four years earlier. They looked so young and carefree; before SHIELD had fallen and Ward had betrayed them, before Daisy got her powers, before Fitzsimmons had been ripped apart time and time again. Before she’d lost Lincoln… they had had no idea how tough things could really get.

“At least we know they’re safe.” May said. “They could have landed in… I don’t know, medieval England, or in a galaxy light-years away, with literally no way to contact us and not even the faintest spark of hope. They’re smart, they found a way to reach us and tell us where they are, who they’re with; who else could have managed that? And they have each other.”

“Yeah.” Daisy agreed. “At least they’re together. And with Peggy Carter, of all people.” She had to chuckle. “I bet Simmons was fangirling like crazy.”

May gave a small smile of amusement. “Oh, definitely.”

“I wonder what they told her, to make her believe them. And how _much_ they told her.”

“I trust them.” May said. “I’m sure they were careful. And Peggy Carter has one of the sharpest minds out there; I bet they make a great team.”

Daisy sat quietly for a moment. “So the guy that delivered us the letter, he must be-”

“Related to Edwin Jarvis.” May finished. “I thought so.”

“Wow… So this letter was kept safe and passed down through his family for decades. That’s- amazing.”

“Yeah, it is.” May agreed. “They’ve done well.”


	10. Chapter 10

“I. Am. _So_. Bored.” Fitz said, splayed out on the bed and staring at the top of the four-poster.

Jemma rolled her eyes at him. “Fitz, it’s only been a few days.”

“A few days of _nothing_.” He said incredulously, sitting up. “How can you stand it?”

“It’s been nice!” Jemma said. “We’ve made good use of Howard Stark’s pool-”

Fitz smirked. “Well that’s certainly true.”

Jemma threw a cushion at his head, her cheeks colouring. “That’s not what I _meant_!”

“Alright, alright.” Fitz hugged the cushion to his chest. “Continue.” 

“ _Anyway_ , we’ve had a few days of well-deserved rest; we’ve used the pool-” She shot at look at Fitz as if daring him to make another comment. “-we’ve caught up on some sleep, spent some time with Peggy, spent some time _together_ without being afraid we’re about to die- when was the last time that happened?! And we- we…” Her voice trailed off, and she pulled a face. “Alright, I’m bored.”

Fitz laughed at Simmons. “See? We’re so used to being run off our feet and in the middle of something that we can’t settle when there’s nothing to do!”

“SHIELD has _ruined_ us.” Jemma said, crossing one leg over the other and staring at her slowly-tanning calf in irritation. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“I feel so bloody helpless.” Fitz said. 

He wrinkled his nose in thought. “We could ask Peggy if she’ll let us go to the SSR with her tomorrow…”

“We did already ask her… and she said to let things die down there first. I don’t want to make things difficult for her.” She sighed deeply. “But we’re no closer to getting home if we’re stuck here.”

“Oh, come on.” Fitz said. “It’s worth a try. I can’t sit here for one more day, _enjoying_ Stark’s mansion. I’ve had enough ‘relaxation’. I need to get in a lab and figure out what to do.”

“You’re right, Fitz.” Jemma replied, her jaw set with determination. “If we stand any hope of getting home we need to be in a place with resources and information. And at the same time, we can help Peggy.”

\----------------------------

“Guys, we need to get back on that ship.” Daisy said firmly, addressing the rest of the team once she'd rejoined them.

Deke’s mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy?! We nearly _died_ trying to get _off_ that ship.”

“It’s our best bet of bringing Fitzsimmons home!” Daisy argued.

After speaking to May and taking some time to calm down and think things over, they had both made their way back to the control room to face everyone else. Daisy had a pounding headache but all she could do was ignore it- she’d dealt with worse, after all- and focus on Fitzsimmons. Coulson was resting in the med bay, and Daisy felt his absence strongly. He was growing weaker by the day, and losing him was yet another worry that she had squashed deep down, but it was gnawing away at her constantly. Time was running out. 

“Daisy’s right, Deke. They used the Remorath teleportation device to escape to the 1940s; maybe there’s a way we can reverse it or bring them back.” May said. Their proposal was met with a grim silence as everyone considered what lay before them.

“Ok,” Yo-Yo said, “how are we gonna do this?”

Daisy smiled at her friend gratefully. The team was frayed enough as it was, they needed to stick together for this to work. “Me, May, Mack and Yo-Yo take the quinjet and board the ship. We’ll split up and find the machine that Fitzsimmons used to escape and bring them home.”

“That sounds a little…” Yo-Yo began hesitantly.

“Sketchy.” Deke finished. “You call that a plan? What about all the in-between stuff? And what about me? Am I just supposed to sit here?”

“Look, I know it’s risky.” Daisy said impatiently. “But we don’t have another choice. Deke, we need someone on the ground- we can’t _all_ go.”

“Yeah, well- well, _Coulson’s_ here.” Deke blustered.

“Yeah, and in _great_ condition to be part of a mission.” Daisy said with cold sarcasm.

Deke had the grace to look embarrassed. “Alright, I’ll stay here- but you better keep me updated on the coms!”

"Thanks.” Daisy said with an inward sigh of relief. She suddenly felt a little guilty; Fitzsimmons were Deke’s grandparents, after all, and he was just as worried as she was. “Look, I know you want to help, Deke, I get it.” She kneaded her pounding forehead. “I’m just doing the best I can; this sucks, ok?”

“I know.” Deke said sympathetically.

“What other options do we have?” Daisy asked them all. As she expected, no one had any better ideas. “We’ve just got to try. Fitzsimmons are _everything_ to us, and we’ve all beaten the odds time and time again. Maybe we’ll get lucky…” The words sounded weak even to her ears, but the team were her family, and they stood by her.

“We’ve just got to have faith.” Yo-Yo said, sharing a smile with Mack. 

\---------------------------

“Oh, good morning.” Peggy said in surprise. “I didn’t think I’d see you before I left.”

Fitz and Simmons joined her in the kitchen and Fitz reached into the cupboard for another two mugs. 

“We’re usually up early.” He said.

“The last couple of days have been… lovely.” Jemma said carefully. “But we’ve decided that we need to be doing something to help, not just sitting around.”

“We were hoping we could come to work with you today.” Fitz said. “I’m sure we can be of use.” 

Peggy hid a smile. She had guessed what they were up to the moment they’d walked through the door, fully dressed and feigning a casual air.

“I don’t doubt it.” She said, stirring her tea.

“So… is that a- I mean, can we-?” Fitz stuttered.

Peggy turned her gaze on them. “Thompson will never let me hear the end of it, but luckily, I’m the boss. So yes.”

Fitz threw his hands up in triumph, then dropped them just as quickly, cheeks colouring. Jemma held back a laugh, and Peggy threw a subtle wink her way. 

“Love the outfit.” She said in approval. Jemma ran her fingers through her navy skirt and smiled. On their second day, Jarvis had returned with an armful of trousers, skirts and blouses for Jemma, and two more three-piece suits for Fitz, along with a selection of ties he’d picked out himself. They had both been overwhelmed with gratitude, and Jemma couldn’t resist reaching up on her toes and planting a kiss of thanks on his cheek. His flustered yet touched reaction had been something quite special.

“I have wonderful fashion inspiration right in front of me.” Jemma replied to Peggy’s compliment.

“Thank you, darling.” Peggy said, sticking a hand on her hip playfully. Jemma grinned. “If you’re ready to go in half an hour that would be perfect.”

“Half an hour it is.” Jemma agreed.

\-------------------

Peggy pulled up in a space outside the SSR and turned around to look at them both. Jemma noticed how she was moving much more easily after allowing her wound to heal for a few days.

“I’ve told the others that two agents are coming in today to help us out temporarily. They’re not going to like it, but just ignore them and they’ll come around eventually. I find that British sarcasm works a treat.”

“Don’t worry about us, we’ll soon sort them out.” Jemma said, exchanging a confident glance with Fitz, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Hopefully my little… episode the last time we were here will be overlooked.”

“They better not ask you to make coffee; they’ll have no idea what’s hit them.” Fitz said.

“Morning, everyone.” Peggy said brightly as she entered the main office. The other agents sat working at their desks or conversing with their colleagues looked up at the sound of her voice and nodded or greeted her briefly before continuing with their tasks.

“Morning, Carter.” Thompson replied from his station, leaning against his desk and twirling a pen lazily between his fingers. His eyes landed on Fitz and Simmons and his expression darkened. “You forgot to mention that I’d already _met_ our new recruits- and never got an explanation for them the first time around."

Thompson’s announcement drew everyone else’s eyes to Fitzsimmons before Peggy had the chance to introduce them herself and Jemma felt her stomach drop. She saw Fitz lick his lips nervously out of the corner of her eye. It felt like the first day at the Academy.

Peggy shot Thompson a dirty look. “Yes. Listen up everyone; this is Agent Fitz and Agent Simmons. They’re going to be helping us out temporarily.” She noted the mutterings and confused looks amongst her colleagues. “They’re my trusted friends and are highly experienced. You would do well to treat them with respect and make the most of their time in our office.” 

Jemma felt a warm glow of pride at seeing Peggy’s words taken seriously. She saw several men nod with acknowledgement and a couple even raised their hands in greeting.

“I’d like to meet with the team from yesterday some time this afternoon, but for now, continue as you were.” Peggy finished her briefing and turned to Fitzsimmons, a look of nervous excitement crossing her face. “Ready?”

“I guess so!” Jemma said. Out of all the crazy and unbelievable things she had experienced, this had to be the one that felt the most surreal.

“I’d like you both to assist in the lab for now; I have no doubt that you could teach our men a thing or two.”

“We’d be honoured.” A glint of eagerness flashed in Fitz’s eyes. He’d been itching to get back in his comfort zone since they’d arrived.

“I’ll see you both soon.” Peggy promised. “Oh, and it’s the second door on the right.”

Jemma nodded, then squeezed Fitz’s hand. Fitz straightened his tie and swallowed nervously before exchanging a slightly anxious yet reassuring smile with Jemma.

“Peggy.” Sousa limped through the doorway towards them.

“Hello, Daniel.” Peggy said with a warm smile.

“Good morning, Agent Fitz, Agent Simmons.” He nodded politely at them both before turning to Peggy. “Can I have a quick word?”

“Of course.”

Peggy closed the door to her office and poured herself a glass of water.

“You ok?” Sousa asked.

“Of course I am. It’s been a bizarre few days, admittedly, but yes.”

Daniel crossed the room and leant his crutch against Peggy’s desk, his eyes searching hers to erase any doubt he had about her reply. “I still can’t believe that Fitz and Simmons are actually from the future. If anyone else had told me I wouldn’t have believed them.” He shook his head in disbelief. “But I know there’re things you’re not telling me.”

“You’ve not told anyone, have you?” Peggy said in concern.

“Of course not!” Irritation tinged his voice.

“Sorry…” Peggy sighed. “That wasn’t fair.”

Sousa’s voice softened and he brushed a gentle finger across Peggy’s cheekbone, making her heartrate quicken. “You look tired.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow and pulled away. “Charming!”

Sousa winced. “Sorry, didn’t mean for that to sound so brutal.”

Peggy laughed.

“I just worry about you.” 

She bit her lip and dropped her eyes for a moment before meeting Sousa’s concerned gaze with new confidence. “I’m fine, I can do this. The last few days have been… a lot to deal with, but Fitz and Simmons are… they’re just incredible.” As she spoke, she reached for Sousa’s hand on the desk, slowly entwining her fingers in his. “I want to help them- I owe them that- and… there’s just something about them both… We get on so well, it feels… easy, somehow, despite everything going on around us.”

“I can see how much this means to you, and I’m grateful for them too, patching you up those few day ago- but I have a feeling it’s also got something to do with whatever you’re not telling me.”

Peggy’s gaze shifted guiltily from his. “Daniel, I-”

“But I’m not going to push you. I trust you, and I trust that you know what you’re doing- most of the time.”

Peggy laughed lightly.

“Just- promise that you’ll talk to me if things get out of hand.”

Peggy looked at him seriously. “I promise. And thank you for putting your faith in me, that means more than you know.”

“Hey, of course.” Daniel replied softly.

Peggy felt something shift between them, and Sousa’s eyes drifted to her mouth. Her breath hitched in her throat as he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers and pulling her in to him with a firm hand on her waist. She brought a hand to the back of his neck and sighed into the kiss, longing to be even closer to him and revelling in the thrill their contact brought her each and every time.

“I love you, Peggy Carter.” He whispered in her ear.

Peggy felt a warm glow spread through her like honey, and she pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

\----------------------------

“Look, I don’t have time to babysit newcomers, ok?” Fitz stood across from a very stressed-looking Agent Samberly, who was evidently not pleased about a stranger entering his workspace. Jemma glanced over from the other side of the room and suppressed a giggle at Fitz’s incredulous expression.

“ _Babysit_?!” Fitz exclaimed. “I’m not some fresh-faced teenager who’s on a bloody work experience placement!”

“I’m afraid I’m far too busy to show some new guy around and help him ‘ _settle in’_ , or whatever.” Samberly waved his hands around sarcastically.

Fitz bristled. “You SSR lot, you’re all the same; entitled, stuck-up, arrogant bastar-”

Jemma cleared her throat in warning from across the room. 

Fitz stopped himself. “Has it even occurred to you that the fact that I’m here might mean I’m good at what I do?”

Samberly rolled his eyes. “Look, don’t take it personally, I just have a very complex equation to solve for a game-changing piece of tech Carter wants to-” 

“x=0.375/y.” Fitz interrupted, looking over Samberly’s shoulder.

“What?” Samberly spun around to look at the chalkboard behind him, scrawled with equations from top to bottom.

“And that one in the corner in the brackets? It’s wrong.” Fitz continued. “Rookie error, easily done, but if you don’t correct it, it’ll mess up your whole process.”

Samberly gaped and scrambled for a piece of chalk, checking Fitz’s maths. “I-I… you’re right.” His eyes ran up and down the board, then back to Fitz. “Thanks, I guess.”

Fitz smiled triumphantly and clapped Samberly on the back- probably a little harder than necessary. Jemma pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing; it looked like their various male friends in SHIELD had had some impact on Fitz’s behaviour.


	11. Chapter 11

“Coulson?” Daisy said quietly, as she slowly opened the door to the med bay.

“Daisy?” He blinked blearily and struggled to sit upright. 

“No, rest.” She said, hurrying inside. 

He smiled at her weakly. “I’m guessing you’re here to tell me you’ve come up with some crazy plan, huh?”

Daisy’s eyes shifted away and she fidgeted under his gaze. “Would it be SHIELD if it wasn’t?”

“I guess not.” He replied. His expression turned more solemn. “Bring them home. Bring them home and come back safe, all of you.”

“We’ll try.”

Coulson reached out a trembling arm and clasped Daisy’s hand in his own.

Daisy felt a lump rise in her throat. “This isn’t goodbye, not yet.” She said strongly. “Don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone.”

“I’ll do my best.” He said.

“I have to- I have to go.” Daisy said, backing away, fighting the urge to abandon all composure. “I-I…”

“Good luck.” Coulson said, his face etched deep with sadness as all he could do was watch her leave.

\------------------

May fired up the quinjet in silence- not that that was uncommon, but this time there was a tension in the air that made them all nervous. Daisy, Mack and Yo-Yo buckled in as the plane shuddered to life and lifted into the air.

“Cloaking functional!” May confirmed to both her team in the ship and Deke and Coulson on the ground. They had to reach the Remorath ship undetected, and were counting on the element of surprise and subtlety to make their mission a success. Daisy let out a long deep breath to steady her racing heart and adjusted the silver gauntlets on her wrists, then glanced at Mack and Yo-Yo, who looked equally grim.

The quinjet broke through the atmosphere with no issues, and Daisy kept her eyes fixed on the Remorath ship, growing closer by the second. Her knee jiggled unconsciously with nerves, and she stood up, unable to sit still.

“Preparing to land.” May called from the cockpit. They hovered directly over the ship, expecting to be blown out of the sky at any moment. But their cloaking stood strong, and Daisy silently thanked Fitz for his genius once again. The quinjet settled on one of the landing platforms with a gentle thud, but Yo-Yo winced anyway. Any one of their enemies could have heard that.

May flicked several switches and the cockpit turned dark. “Everyone ready?” She said, looking around at the team.

Mack grabbed his shotgun axe from behind him and slung it over his shoulder. “Hell yeah.”

Daisy shook at her arms and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Sure you don’t want to take a gun?” She asked May.

May patted the belt on her hip. “It’s here if I need it.” The ghost of a smug grin flitted across her face. “But I won’t.”

“Ok.” Daisy said. “So, we get inside and split up to cover more ground; me with May and Mack with Yo-Yo. Keep us updated on anything that happens. If either of us find the teleport, let us know, and then we’ll figure out how to get Fitzsimmons home. Stay under the radar and keep quiet. We want to stay undetected for as long as possible.”

“Good luck, Tremors.” Mack said. Daisy nodded, the quinjet opened, and they descended silently into the depths of the Remorath ship.

\----------------------------

Daisy readjusted her grip on the gun in her hand, her palms slick with sweat. She and May moved as one, slowly, quietly, hearts pounding. She hoped Mack and Yo-Yo were ok, and a little part of her regretted splitting up.

They approached the end of a corridor, which so far, had been deserted. May held up a hand, her ears picking up the sound of voices. Daisy peered very carefully around the corner, pulling her head back after a quick scan of the corridor ahead. She held up two fingers and jerked her head in the direction of the voices they had heard. May nodded, her face set with determination.

Daisy waited a second, then stepped out into the corridor. Before the two Remorath guards could react, she had thrust her arms out and quaked them hard into the wall. Their heads smacked the metallic surface with a painful thud, and they crumpled to the floor, dead or unconscious.

May followed Daisy and they dragged the two guards into a semi-concealed alcove, hiding them from view to avoid drawing attention to themselves.

Daisy wiped a hand across her forehead. “God, they’re heavy.”

“And they reek.” May said in disgust. She hesitated, then tore a strip of cloth from one of the Remorath’s clothing and wound it around the huge talons protruding from their hands. Bracing herself, she pulled with all her strength and a moment later staggered back, a lethal talon in her hand. She saw Daisy staring at her. “Anything’s better than a gun.”

Daisy shrugged, then looked left and right down the corridor. “Any idea which way?”

“No…” May said.

“Left it is then.”

They set off down the dimly lit passageway once more, keeping their footsteps soft and listening out for any sign of danger. They threw themselves against the wall as another two Remorath patrolled a fork just ahead of them, luckily turning down another corridor and not noticing them. Daisy breathed a sigh of relief, but she relaxed too soon.

A snarl came from behind them as another set of guards spotted them. The noise alerted the pair that they had just slipped away from, and suddenly May and Daisy were facing two on either side. May raised her eyebrows and clenched the blade in her fist, and Daisy held up her hands, preparing to fight. Daisy chose the Remorath to her left as her first target and quaked it without hesitation into the wall. Its neck snapped and it folded onto the floor. The second one was too close to quake, its talons aimed at her chest, so she ran at it and blocked its first thrust with her gauntlets. It lunged again but she ducked under the blade and knocked its feet out from under it. The Remorath’s head smacked onto the floor and in the moment of disorientation, Daisy pulled out her gun and shot it twice in the head.

She took a moment to breathe then spun around to see May finish off her second opponent with a thrust to the neck. The Remorath struggled for a moment in her grasp, blood gargling in its mouth, then May shoved the body away and wiped the blade on its cloak. The first Remorath already lay dying on the ground, desperately trying to staunch the flow of dark blood pooling from its side onto the floor. May ducked down and grabbed a fist of material, pulling it up to her level. The Remorath scrabbled weakly at her hands to no avail.

“Where’s the transportation device?” May hissed. “The one you all use to travel through time and space and sneak up on us.” The Remorath shook its head stubbornly, until May punched it in the side. The Remorath doubled up and howled through its teeth. “Tell me!” May said fiercely. The dying creature lifted a trembling hand and pointed down the corridor, left, right, then straight ahead, before the effort became too much and it slumped to the floor.

May straightened up with a grimace, flicking a loose strand of hair out of her face. 

“You good?” Daisy asked.

“Yeah. You reckon that guy was telling the truth about the directions?”

“I don’t know, it’s not like we have anything else to go on.”

“If we end up in the most Remorath-infested area on the ship, I’ll kill him.” May said grimly.

Daisy grinned. “Not that I doubt your skills, but that might be beyond even you.”

“He said straight on, left, right, then straight ahead, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Daisy replied.

“Come on then.” May said. 

They followed the instructions of the Remorath, turning left at the first fork they came upon and hoping that what he had told them wasn’t a final act of revenge. They didn’t come across any more Remorath for a while, and although that should have been a good thing, the longer they went undetected, the more anxious Daisy felt. Every noise and every corner they turned sent her heart racing all over again. The only sounds they made were the quick, whispered updates to Deke and Mack and Yo-Yo, who had encountered several Remorath too but escaped any serious injuries.

Daisy suddenly heard footsteps and put a finger to her lips. May nodded grimly and together, they crept closer to the end of the passageway. May listened to the footsteps closely, then mouthed “ _two_ ” at Daisy. They waited a couple more seconds then stepped swiftly around the corner, weapons raised and ready to attack.

“Wait!” A familiar voice yelled. Daisy drew in a sharp intake of breath in both shock and relief. It was Mack and Yo-Yo.

“Shit, that was close.” Daisy said, shaken. “I nearly shot you!” 

“That’s why you shouldn’t rely on a gun.” May said with an ‘I told you so’ smirk.

Mack rested the tip of his shotgun axe on the floor, wiping a stream of blood from a gash on his arm.

“You good?” Daisy asked.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” He gestured at his beloved shotgun axe. “This baby soon finished the guy off.”

“Yo-Yo?” 

“Yeah I’m fine, Inhuman powers come in handy for looking around corners.” 

“Should have done that before we nearly killed each other.” Daisy remarked. 

“Any idea where we’re headed?” Mack asked.

“Yeah, actually.” Daisy said. “We got some information out of a Remorath; if he’s telling the truth, we turn right here, then go straight on and should reach the room we’re looking for.”

“I’ll scout ahead and see what we’re up against.” Yo-Yo said. She had disappeared and reappeared within seconds, leaving a sudden gust of wind behind her. “Two guards around the next corner, then four in front of a sealed door.” 

“That’s got to be it.” Daisy said.

“It doesn’t look like there’s a keypad, just a manual lock, so we should be able to get in there quickly.”

They exchanged looks of anticipation and Mack flexed the fingers gripping his shotgun axe. 

“I’ll deal with the two around the corner.” Yo-Yo said with a nod of determination. She disappeared and they heard muffled grunts and then silence, and Yo-Yo appeared back in front of them, her plaits swinging around her head. “All clear.”

“Cheater.” May said with a reluctant smile. 

Together they made their way down the corridor, Daisy leading and Mack covering the back, glancing behind him regularly. As they got closer, they heard signs of movement and voices from the guards up ahead.

“We take out the guards, then get inside the room and bar it. We’re going in blind, and we won’t know how we can rescue Fitzsimmons until we get a look at the machine. We have to work quickly, and if we do this subtly we might buy ourselves more time.”

“Alright, on three.” May said.

Daisy swallowed her feeling of dread and stepped out to face the Remorath. “Hey!” She shouted. They turned around with expressions of surprise- which soon turned into anger- and three of them ran at her with a snarl. Daisy barely had time to react before the fourth had slammed his hand onto a panel on the wall.

The overhead lights turned red and a siren began to wail. So much for subtlety.

“ _Shit_.” May yelled.

“Quickly, come on!” Mack said, turning to face his first opponent. Three bullets smacked into the Remorath with a loud _bang_ , killing him instantly. Daisy quaked the one who had triggered the alarms, then shot him to be sure. Yo-Yo’s metallic arms made quick work of her opponent, squeezing the life out of him as he scrabbled at the arms around his neck.

Daisy heard a yell of pain from May, and turned just in time to see a Remorath rip a jagged talon out of her collarbone. May staggered for a moment, then slashed violently at his neck. Blood poured from his wound and he collapsed onto the floor.

“May!” Daisy said, rushing toward her. “You ok?” May nodded wordlessly, pressing a hand to her wound to stop the bleeding. Mack ran to the door and bracing himself, began to turn the wheel to open it. He grimaced at its stiffness, and Yo-Yo joined him. The wheel jerked to the left with a squeal, then stuck again.

Yo-Yo cursed in Spanish. “They know we’re here! We need to get inside now!”

Mack’s body tensed under the strain, his shoulders hunched and muscles flexing, desperately trying to open the door. “I’m- trying…” He said through gritted teeth.

The siren screamed from all around and made it difficult to think. A huge _boom_ sounded suddenly above them and the floor shuddered beneath their feet. They all stumbled, May crying out in pain, and Daisy’s heart sank.

“Was that-?” Yo-Yo said, panic in her eyes.

“Our ride home?” Daisy replied grimly. “Probably.”

“Life could be so easy.” Mack grumbled.

“Let’s hope this teleport actually works then.”

More footsteps sounded to their left, and approximately eight heavily-armed Remorath appeared at the end of the corridor, triumphantly staring them down. Yo-Yo pointed in the other direction, where just as many Remorath had appeared again.

“Mack!” Daisy yelled, hating that her voice shook a little.

A loud grunt and squeal of metal came from Mack and the door. “Got it!”

Daisy grabbed May’s arm as he yanked open the heavy door, and all four of them piled inside, Mack slamming it closed behind them.

\-------------------------

They wasted no time in sealing the door, Mack tightening the wheel as far as it would go. Daisy looked around frantically and grabbed a thick metal bar leaning against the wall. She tossed it at Mack and he slid it through the spokes of the wheel, jamming the ends against the door frame. A gaping doorframe stood on the other side of the wall, its door missing, and the frame bent out of shape. Daisy and Yo-Yo immediately helped Mack push a huge, heavy metal cabinet against the opening, blocking the doorway for now at least. He let out a ragged breath and wiped his shiny brow with the back of his hand.

Daisy helped May out of her jacket and bundled it up, pressing it against the bleeding stab wound and applying pressure with her palm. It looked a mess. The uneven edge of the talon had clearly torn through her muscle. May winced again but said nothing. She sank onto a crate and for the first time they had the opportunity to look around.

The room was made of the same grey metal sheets fitted together around the walls and floor. There were crates and boxes stacked neatly in storage frames around the room, a little out of place next to such a valuable piece of technology.

Daisy spoke into her coms. “Guys? We’re inside, we’re ok.”

“Have you found it?” Deke’s staticky voice replied.

Daisy didn’t even have to ask Coulson to describe the machine, the feeling in her gut was confirmation enough. “Yeah.”

The four of them stared at the contraption in the centre of the room. It was taller than Daisy and constructed from plates of metal, handles and dials jutting out from multiple even intervals towards the top. She peered closer at the symbols engraved into the machine, but she couldn’t read them.

“Deke?” She asked. “We need your help now.” 

“I’m here, what can I do?”

“We need you to tell us which symbols to choose.” Mack said. “There’s a chance that the ones Fitzsimmons used are already set up, but we can’t take that risk. You have their letter with you, right?”

“Yeah, it’s here.” 

“Can you translate the numbers, Deke?” Yo-Yo asked.

“I had to use them all the time when I programmed the Framework, I should be able to describe them to you.”

A sudden thud at the door made them jump. Daisy dreaded to think how long they had before the Remorath broke down the door.

“Guys? You ok?” Deke asked.

“Yeah… just- running out of time.” Daisy replied with an anxious glance at the door.

“Ok, ok, I’ll do this quickly.” They heard him fumbling with the letter over the coms. “Fitzsimmons wrote this letter on the 12th July 1948. I guess that’s the date we should go for.”

“ _Shit_!” Daisy said suddenly.

“What? What’s happened?” Deke replied urgently.

“Nothing! It’s just- we need _coordinates_.” Daisy groaned. “How could we have been so stupid!”

“Wait- the SSR base in LA- it was in a building signposted as a theatrical agency.” May said suddenly. “It- it was called… Auerbach. Auerbach Theatrical Agency.”

“Wow.” Daisy said, impressed. “Looks like Simmons isn’t the only SHIELD history nerd.”

“Can you find the coordinates of that building, Deke?” May asked. “I don’t know exactly where it was or what’s there now but-”

“Got it.” Deke said.

Yo-Yo raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Already?” 

“My grandparents are two of the smartest people alive, I’m not as dumb as I look.” 

“Right, well-” Before Daisy could continue, another loud thud shook the room. “We need to do this _now_ , Deke.”

“Ok, ok. I need you to listen really carefully…”

Deke began to describe the symbols that matched the numbers on Fitzsimmons’ letter, and Daisy turned the dials to face the correct inscription. Even under so much pressure, she had to laugh at some of his descriptions, her personal favourites being ‘the one that looks a cartoon giraffe praying’ and ‘upside down watering can with a limbless stick man on top’. May muttered curses under her breath, some of which were so obscene that Daisy decided it was probably safest if she pretended she hadn’t heard them at all. 

“Hey, what are these?” Yo-Yo asked, as her eyes landed on several identical objects on one of the shelves.

“What?” Daisy said, looking over her shoulder. Yet another forceful attempt to break down the door made her grit her teeth.

“Carry on with what you’re doing.” Yo-Yo said. “Mack, come here.” Yo-Yo’s attention had been caught by a collection of leather wrist straps with bulky dials. They were scattered haphazardly on one of the shelves. She picked one up, and as it came into contact with her skin, a series of symbols began to glow.

“Mack.” She whispered. “They match the machine.”

Mack placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned forwards to pick one up. It reacted the same way to his touch, and silently, he walked closer to the machine, comparing the symbols and materials. “Yo-Yo’s right. These have to have something to do with the transportation device.”

May stood up, one hand still pressed to her collarbone, and compared them for herself. “It looks like you can set it up like a smaller version of the teleport- the settings all match.” 

“Guys, what have you found?” Deke said anxiously.

“We’re not exactly sure.” Daisy replied. “But I think we should all take one, just in case we need to use them somehow.” Mack strapped one to his wrist, passed one to May, Yo-Yo and Daisy, then pocketed another two for Fitzsimmons. “Right, that’s it.” Daisy said. “All of the dials have been set up.

“Is now a good time to mention that I always get 2s and 6s mixed up…?” Deke said guiltily.

“What?” Daisy exclaimed. 

“Well how do we know if you told us the right-”

A grating sound came from the door, and they watched in horror as the metal bar holding the wheel in place slowly began to bend. The force they were applying on the other side of the door was evidently much stronger than their pitiful make-do barrier.

“We don’t have time for this, we have to go _now_.” May said urgently. “Just grab a handle.”

Daisy looked around, panic rising, but did as May said. “Deke, our coms will cut off as soon as we use this thing, so-”

“Good luck! Now go!” Deke yelled.

“Three, two…” May said. They all gripped the handles firmly, fear and determination written all over their faces. “ _One_!” They wrenched the levers up, and simultaneously disappeared from the room.

Deke’s coms went dead, and he put his head in his hands with a ragged sigh. “Please make it back.” He whispered. “ _Please_.”


	12. Chapter 12

Their feet hit solid ground with a force that knocked them off-balance. Daisy’s stomach heaved with nausea and her vision swam. A wave of stifling heat pressed down on her immediately. She didn’t even have chance to take in her surroundings before harsh voices started barking commands and chaos ensued.

“Get your hands up!”

“What the hell-?”

“Nobody move!”

“How did they-?”

Daisy blinked in disorientation and looked around to see if her friends were ok. Mack had his arms up, trying to calm things down, and Yo-Yo was stood in defence position, her darting eyes revealing her concealed fear. 

“Daisy.” May said, grabbing her arm. “I can’t believe we’re actually here…”

“It- it worked?” Daisy said in bewilderment.

“Don’t shoot!” Mack said urgently. “Just- wait!”

Daisy’s heart thudded against her chest and blood pounded in her ears. A bead of sweat ran into her hair. They were surrounded by a group of confused, frightened-looking men in suits, several of whom had scrambled for weapons and were pointing them threateningly at the four people who had appeared out of thin air. They were in a large shared office, hot sunlight streaming through generous windows at one end of the room, turning everything dusky orange. Desks arranged in two rows had papers scattered all over them and on the floor, chairs kicked back in a panic.

“Who are you? How are you here?” A tall, blond man in a grey suit grasped a gun firmly in his hand, his eyes narrowed and switching between Daisy, May, Mack and Yo-Yo.

“We’re not your enemies and we’re not here to hurt you, we just want to find our friends.” Daisy said, stepping forwards.

A man with a crutch limped to the blond man’s side and spoke in a hushed voice. “Don’t do anything stupid, I think we should listen to what they have to say. We should get-”

“Stop being such a diplomat, Sousa, there’s a time and a place for a nice chat and this isn’t it.”

Daisy shared a glance with May. _Daniel Sousa_. 

The blond man’s eyes travelled up and down Daisy’s Quake suit in bewilderment. He shook his head and readjusted his grip on the gun. “’Wanting to find your friends’ doesn’t explain how you just appeared out of thin air into a secret government base.” He glanced at Mack and the shotgun axe strapped across his shoulders and swallowed. “You don’t look like you’re just here for a chat.”

“I swear, just lower your weapons and we can explain everything.” Daisy said, trying to keep her voice calm. She looked him straight in the eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Hell, _I’m_ asking the questions, lady.” The man retorted.

Daisy fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Fine. I’m Daisy, this is Mack, Yo-Yo and May.” 

“Daisy…” May murmured, grabbing hold of her. She began to sway on her feet, sweat glistening on her forehead.

Daisy glanced at her wound. “Look, my friend’s injured, can we please just-”

Mack caught May before she fell, lowering her gently to the floor, then kicked his axe away from him. Daisy and Yo-Yo did the same with their guns. “C’mon, we’re unarmed and wounded.”

The man’s expression wavered. “Alright. Crawford, get the med team, Eaton, get them into custody, I-”

“Thompson? What’s going on here?” Daisy’s heart leapt into her throat as a clear, authoritative _female_ voice silenced the others and Agent Peggy Carter appeared in the doorway behind her.

“I wish I could tell you, Carter.” Thompson replied, baffled.

Peggy’s eyes narrowed as she took in the chaotic scene before her, and she suddenly gave a little gasp. “Oh my… Are you-?”

“Peggy Carter…” Daisy laughed in astonishment, her face lit up by a childish excitement.

“Well I’ll be damned…” Mack said, straightening up slowly. May struggled to a sitting position, her eyes filling with tears. 

“Everyone, out.” Peggy said. Thompson opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “No objections, _out_.”

He held up his hands in offence and backed away. “Alright, alright, only trying to do my job. Apparently, I don’t get to know anything these days.”

“Let me handle this, Thompson, just keep everyone out of the way.”

Thompson and the rest of the agents dispersed, muttering amongst themselves and shooting a variety of disgruntled and curious looks at Peggy, Daisy and her friends. Sousa locked eyes with her and she nodded at him subtly.

Once the agents were all gone, Peggy turned to face them. “You all seem to know who I am, and I have a feeling I know who you are too…”

“I- I’m Daisy, this is Mack, Yo-Yo and May.”

“Are you alright?” Peggy asked May in concern. “A med team are on their way.” 

“I- I’m fine…” May replied, a little awestruck.

“Please tell me Fitzsimmons are here.” Daisy’s expression turned anxious. “Are we in the right place? Are they-?” 

“ _Daisy_!” Daisy spun around in time to see her best friend fly through the doorway, Fitz at her heels.

Jemma’s voice broke as she neared them. “Oh my god, how are you _here_?”

Daisy’s hands flew to her mouth and she let out a sob. “Simmons… oh god, Fitz. Are you-?” Before she could finish, Jemma had flung her arms around Daisy and buried her face in her shoulder, crying unashamedly.

Fitz gaped at them all in shock, before Mack broke the silence and pulled him into a tight embrace. “It’s good to see you, Turbo.” He said in a muffled voice.

Jemma pulled away from Daisy and looked at her friends in shock. Yo-Yo grinned and hugged her too, as Peggy gently helped May to her feet. “I- I don’t understand, how are you here?”

“We got your letter.” Yo-Yo said. “Just a few hours after we lost you.”

“It worked?!” Fitz said. “It arrived? Who- who gave it to you?”

“Some guy called Stephen Jarvis. He just appeared outside the base carrying your letter and knew exactly what to say.” Yo-Yo said. 

“Stephen Jarvis…” Peggy said quietly. “So we did it- or _he_ did it.”

“He said he was Jarvis’ grandson.” May explained. “It obviously meant a lot to him.”

“Oh my god…” Jemma said quietly, looking at Peggy. “That’s incredible.”

“Mr Jarvis’ grandson…” She said, looking overwhelmed. “I can hardly believe it worked.”

“But- how are you actually here?” Jemma asked, confused.

“The same way you are.” Daisy said with a grin.

“The Remorath?”

“We flew up to their ship again and fought our way to the teleport. We used the date on your letter and found the coordinates for this place, and Deke translated the symbols on the machine for us.” Daisy explained. 

“What day is it?” Yo-Yo asked.

“It’s the 16th July 1948.” Peggy replied.

“Ah, Deke.” Mack said with a laugh and a shake of his head. “Looks like he did get 2 and 6 mixed up; we were hoping to arrive on the same day you did.”

“Wow…” Jemma said, a lump in her throat. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Especially after- you know… everything.” Fitz said, struggling to meet Daisy’s eyes. 

“You’re our team, our family.” Mack said. “We weren’t just gonna leave you here.”

Jemma looked around her, her face filled with love and disbelief. She wiped a tear from her face and Fitz put an arm around her shoulder. “Thank you.” She whispered.

“I still can’t believe we’re here.” Daisy said in awe. “This is insane, even for us.” Jemma laughed breathlessly. “You look amazing, by the way- both of you. I’m jealous, really.”

“All thanks to Peggy.” Jemma said warmly.

Peggy smiled in return. “I’ve heard so much about you all, it’s an honour to actually meet you.”

“You have no idea.” Mack said, shaking her hand.

“If only Coulson were here.” May said, her face both proud and sad.

“Oh, gosh, your poor shoulder.” Peggy said suddenly. “Where are those boys? They’re hopeless, honestly. I’ll go and see to it, you wait here.” 

Peggy walked briskly to the door, heels tapping on the floor, and Jemma just glimpsed Thompson, a look of feigned innocence on his face as he leant against the doorframe. Peggy’s voice lilted with irritation and they disappeared from view, leaving Fitz, Simmons and the rest of the team to reunite in private.

\--------------------------------

The sun was setting against the skyline of LA as Jemma knocked on Peggy’s door, the evening sunshine reflecting an orange glow in the windows. Peggy had managed to track down the med team, and after tending to May’s shoulder, they’d been left alone. The team exchanged their extraordinary stories in utter disbelief and giddy excitement, hardly able to believe the situation they’d found themselves in. As the sun sank lower in the sky, Fitzsimmons knew it was time to say goodbye.

“Come in.” Peggy said clearly. Jemma swallowed the sinking sensation in her chest and opened the door.

“Hi.” She said hesitantly. She hovered by the doorway, suddenly unsure.

Peggy set the cap on her pen and beckoned to the chair next to her with a knowing smile. “So…” Jemma sighed and sat down. “So… I suppose this is it.” 

“I suppose it is.” Peggy said, folding her hands in her lap.

“I can’t believe the team are actually here.” Jemma said in disbelief. “I couldn’t have imagined what would happen when we wrote that letter- I was ready to give up. A solution just didn’t seem possible.”

“It’s truly remarkable.” Peggy agreed. “I feel like I’m in a dream.”

“You have no idea.” Jemma said with a laugh.

“I’m glad I got to meet your friends.”

“Most of them.” Jemma corrected. “Coulson would have been so proud to be here too. He’s the reason we’ve become who we are, and why we’re so close. SHIELD wouldn’t still exist without him, and- and I don’t know how long he’s got left or if we can even save him.” Jemma’s voice cracked.

“I’m sorry Jemma, he sounds like an amazing man.” Peggy said softly. “The kind of man I would have liked to have met.”

“I’m glad you know of him now though.” Jemma said. “He would have been new to SHIELD when you retired, low in the ranks and trying to find his way…”

“I’ll not forget his name- or yours.” Peggy promised. “I owe you all a great deal for everything you do in the future.”

Jemma swallowed and looked down. “I don’t want to have to say goodbye.”

Peggy felt a tickle of emotion in her nose and had to focus on keeping her voice steady. “I know, me either. But the future needs you, and I’m so grateful for the time we’ve spent together, even under the circumstances.”

“I wouldn’t change it.” Jemma said. “I’d get chased by aliens any day if it meant ending up here.”

Peggy laughed loudly. “I’m going to miss you, Jemma. Very much indeed.” 

“I don’t know what to say…” Jemma said. “It’s- it’s too…” She gestured vaguely.

“I understand.” Peggy said gently. “I wish we had more time together too, but you’ve made such an impact on me, Jemma. You and Fitz and the rest of your team. For me, decades will go by, but I will treasure these few days forever.”

“Me too. Don’t ever give up, Peggy. Things get… complicated in the future… in many ways, but if anyone has the strength to face it, it’s you.”

Peggy took Jemma’s hand, her face creased into a frown. “I won’t deny I’m not a little worried, but when I do face challenges in the years to come, I’ll think of you and Fitz, and of SHIELD, always. I’m going to miss you, you’re the kind of person I’d always want by my side.”

“I feel exactly the same.” Jemma replied. “To have grown up looking up to you and then have the opportunity to spend time together… it’s a dream come true. Thank you, Peggy, for everything.”

They both stood up, their hearts heavy but full of love. Jemma drew in a ragged breath, blinking back tears. They stared at each other for a moment, their expressions echoed in each other’s faces, before Peggy pulled Jemma into an embrace. They clutched at each other tightly, Peggy biting down hard on her lip to keep her emotion at bay, until they both knew they couldn’t prolong their departure any longer.

They stepped back and instinctively straightened up, preparing themselves to re-join the team outside. Peggy gave an almost imperceptible nod, and they stepped out of her office together.

\-----------------------

The rest of the team turned around at the sound of the door closing gently. May looked exhausted but stronger than before, and Fitz and Mack were talking animatedly.

Peggy smiled at them all. “I suppose-” 

“Wait!” The main door crashed open and Edwin Jarvis rushed through the entrance, panting heavily.

Peggy’s eyebrows rose alarmingly high on her forehead and she folded her arms across her chest with a disapproving look on her face. “Mr Jarvis, I-”

“Miss Simmons, Mr Fitz, I received word of your departure and I was hoping I’d get the chance to say goodbye.”

The rest of the team gaped as they realised who Jarvis was. Jemma exchanged a glance with Fitz who seemed equally amused by their reactions, but she was truly touched by Jarvis’ effort to see them one last time.

“Goodness, you must be Miss Simmons and Fitz’s friends from the future.” Jarvis appeared to notice everyone else for the first time. He reached for Daisy’s hand and shook it energetically.

She scrambled for a reply, her mouth opening and closing helplessly. “Uh- yeah, I guess we…”

“A pleasure, a pleasure.” Jarvis beamed at everyone in delight. “Looks like I got here just in time. I say, does everyone dress like that in the future? I rather like it.”

Daisy just stared at him.

“Mr Jarvis, did Rose let you up here _again_?” Peggy said incredulously. “I’m going to have to have a word with her.”

Jarvis looked hurt. “Do you really want me out of the way that badly?” 

Peggy’s face relaxed. “Mr Jarvis, you are a true nuisance, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“Thank you for coming to see us off, Mr Jarvis.” Simmons said.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He replied, bowing his head.

Fitz stepped forwards and held out his hand. “Thanks for everything, without your help we’d still be wandering the streets.”

“I thought there was something special about you two, and I was most certainly right.” He shook Fitz’s hand. “Good luck, Mr Fitz.”

“You too, Jarvis.”

“Ah, Miss Simmons, I am most certainly going to miss you both.” Jarvis took her hands and kissed them daintily, making Jemma smile shyly.

“Careful, my husband is watching.” She teased.

Jarvis took an exaggerated step back and pretended to look guilty. “My apologies, Mr Fitz, I rather forgot myself.”

“I think I can make an allowance just this once.” Fitz joked. 

“I’ll miss you too, Jarvis. Thank you for all your help- and for keeping Peggy on her toes.”

He winked. “It’s why I’m here, darling.”.

They turned to Peggy, a sense of finality in the air. Fitz hovered a little awkwardly, until Peggy took charge. She stepped forwards, arms outstretched, and pulled him into a hug. Fitz felt an unexpected lump rise in his throat.

“It’s been a pleasure. Good luck, Fitz, you’re truly remarkable.”

Fitz swallowed. “Thank you- for everything. This whole thing, and everything else… I- it’s been…” He shook his head. “Still can’t get my bloody words out.”

Peggy smiled affectionately, then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Somehow, I think I know exactly what you wanted to say.”

Fitz nodded, hesitated for a second, then stepped back. Mack lay a hand on his shoulder. 

Peggy turned to Jemma, her smile heavy with all kinds of emotion. “Safe travels.”

“I _would_ send you a message to say we’ve got home safely, but…”

Peggy laughed. “Damn time travel, so inconvenient.” She sighed deeply. “Come here, Jemma.”

They hugged each other tightly.

“You’re incredible, Peggy Carter, don’t ever forget that.”

“I could say exactly the same to you.”

Peggy addressed the rest of the team, Daisy, May, Mack and Yo-Yo standing a little back and watching expectantly. “I hear from Fitz and Jemma that I have a huge amount to thank you all for, and of course Agent Coulson too.” May’s eyebrows lifted very slightly at the acknowledgment of Coulson. “You’ve all sacrificed so much and been so brave, and if the future unfolds as I’ve been told it should, I owe you all a great deal.” She looked down the line of bruised, bloody, and exhausted agents, and noticed the strength, resilience and pride in every one of them. “I wish I could spend more time with you all, but I’ll think of you often. Now, take these wonderful people home, and good luck.”

Mack passed the two spare wrist straps to Fitzsimmons. He had already set them up with the correct time, date and coordinates to take them back to the Lighthouse. Jemma’s hands shook a little as she secured it around her wrist, careful not to move any of the dials by accident. Peggy gave Jemma’s hand a final, gentle squeeze, then stepped back and stood next to Jarvis.

“Ready?” Daisy said, looking around at her friends. They all nodded nervously. Peggy caught Daisy’s eye and smiled, and a thrill ran down her spine. Even though she’d hadn’t spent lots of time with Peggy, she knew that her few hours in the 1940s would stick in her memory for the rest of her life. “On three, ok?”

A strange, expectant quiet had settled over the room. Peggy and Jarvis stood a few metres away, the rest of the team in a line facing them, and the last moments of sunlight filtered through the room in soft strands. Daisy took a deep, steady breath, and rested her hand over her wrist. “Three… two… one.”

In the blink of an eye, they were gone. The only sign that they had been there at all was the sudden gust of air that blew piles of papers from the desks and the curled strands of Peggy’s hair out of her face.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final chapter for this story (oops it's been a while between chapters, sorry!). I can't believe how many of you have enjoyed it and I just wanted to say thank you for every single read and kudo and especially the commenst- they really make me happy and it's so lovely to hear feedback.   
> I don't currently have a story in mind but I'm sure something will pop into my head eventually, particularly because of how great season 7 is! If anyone has any ideas, feel free to drop some inspiration in the comment section.
> 
> Also... I wanted this to be emotional but uplifting and I'm hoping I've not crossed the line into depressing... we'll see lol

_One week later…_

Jemma took a sip from her mug of tea, tapping her ring finger absentmindedly against its surface with a gentle clink. Her eyes wandered over to her wardrobe, where her clothes from the day they left the 1940s still hung, memories captured in time. She disentangled herself carefully from a sleeping Fitz, who had dozed off as they sat together on the sofa.

It had been a week since she and Fitz had been rescued by their friends, and they had been thrown straight back into their crazy life with hardly a moment to process their experience. The last few days had been spent flitting between the lab and the med bay, desperately trying to find a cure for Coulson’s terminal illness. They were close, and there was a faint glimmer of hope in the distance, but time was still working furiously against them. For now, though, Coulson was stable, and Mack had ordered Fitzsimmons to rest.

Jemma sighed. She seemed to have a constant headache these days. She had not been sleeping well and woke during the night, dazed and disorientated, from vivid dreams and nightmares. She knew Fitz was suffering too, struggling to cope with his own demons.

Though the past week had barely left Jemma a moment to breathe, she was left with a niggling feeling, as though something didn’t quite feel right. Their departure from the 1940s had been unexpected- as was their time there in the first place- but not so sudden that Fitzsimmons hadn’t been able to say their goodbyes to Peggy and leave with a sense of finality. Even so, the added complication of time travel had made the whole situation feel wrong to Jemma, unfinished.

Fitz and Jemma knew exactly how Peggy’s life had unfolded, and upon their return to present day, nothing drastic had changed. But Peggy would have lived her life looking back on those few days and wondering what had happened to them both, whether they had made it back safely, and then eventually, perhaps thinking of them around the time of their birth, their childhood, their first steps in SHIELD. Had she ever looked them up? Kept an eye on them? Or had she- understandably- been simply too busy with her own family and career, and then eventually, her deteriorating health and mind? Perhaps Jemma was exaggerating the impact they’d had on Peggy at all; who was to say that those few days had simply faded into memory for her and she’d moved on with her life?

Jemma closed her eyes and let the fabric of the clothes hung in front of her run through her fingers. She breathed in deeply and was transported. Jemma imagined she could smell the 1940s themselves on those clothes; the heat of LA, the faint undertones of cigarette smoke and perspiration, the perfume that Peggy had lent her, and the fresh, bright scent of her washing powder.

“Jemma?” She turned around. Fitz had woken up and was looking at her with concern in his eyes. “You ok?”

“I… I suppose so.” She sighed. “It just feels strange, that’s all.”

Fitz stood up and stretched, then placed a comforting hand on her arm. “I know, it’s hard to put into words, but it just feels…” He shook his head. “I don’t know, like we’re stuck between two time periods.”

“Exactly.” Jemma said, relieved that Fitz understood. “The time jump just feels so jarring.”

“It all happened so quickly.” Fitz said. “We got on so well with Peggy and… I wish we could have spent more time together.”

“Me too… She was such an incredible lady and lived such an incredible life…” Jemma trailed off, gnawing distractedly on her lower lip. “I wonder if we could..?”

“What?” Fitz said suspiciously.

“There’s one more thing I’d like to do.”

\------------------------

Mack- as acting Director- agreed to their request reluctantly, and on the condition that they spoke to no one and kept out of sight. Once again, Fitzsimmons found themselves strapping the teleports to their wrists and adjusting the dials under Deke’s instructions.

“Are you sure you’ve got it right this time?” Fitz said.

“ _Yes, Grandpa_ , I’m positive.” Deke replied, handing him a scrap of paper. “Here, take this, it has the return coordinates written on it.”

Fitz stuffed it in his pocket, bristling at Deke’s reply.

“Thank you.” Jemma said, with a meaningful glance at Fitz. “We’ll be back before you know it, this is just something that we have to do.”

Deke nodded, then impulsively pulled Jemma into a brief hug. “Good luck.”

Fitz held out his hand and Jemma took it, his strong, warm grip giving her confidence. They locked eyes, then activated the teleports together.

\-----------------------

Fitz swore as he tried to recover from the wave of dizziness and nausea that swept over him. “After this, we are never time travelling again.”

Jemma grimaced in agreement. She glanced up and down the side street they had appeared in, and as they had hoped, it was deserted.

Jemma reached up and secured her hairpiece, angling it so that it cast a shadow over her face. She brushed a speck of dirt from Fitz’s elbow, presumably from where he’d fallen. It wasn’t often that she saw him in a suit and tie, and even under the circumstances, she found herself smiling at him. Fitz unfolded the glasses from his jacket pocket and placed them on his nose. It wasn’t the most fool-proof disguise, but it would have to do.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Jemma said. She smoothed the creases out of her blouse and trousers as best as she could, feeling a little dishevelled after their method of transport. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Fitz said sombrely.

Hand in hand, they crossed the road and followed the steady stream of people through the streets to the church. Fitzsimmons kept an eye out for familiar faces, careful to keep their distance. It would be difficult to explain their attendance at the church, looking several years older than they were supposed to be and when they were meant to be at SHIELD’s secret base.

Gathering around the entrance to the cathedral were a group of reporters and journalists, chattering and shouting, their cameras flashing. Fitzsimmons made sure to keep their heads down, and Jemma felt a flash of anger at their inconsiderate nature. She and Fitz waited a little to the side of the church, choosing their moment to enter carefully. They watched in silence as streams of people made their way inside, some famous faces among them. There had to be several hundred people crammed into the cathedral.

Jemma’s eyes wandered to a wooden frame propped up outside the building. Her heart contracted at the words on the pamphlet; ‘ _June 30, 2016, St. David’s Cathedral. A celebration of the life of Margaret Elizabeth ‘Peggy’ Carter, April 9, 1921- June 18, 2016’_.

She remembered the day the press released the news of Peggy Carter’s death, after she had slipped away peacefully in her sleep. Jemma had been heartbroken; Peggy had been a figure of inspiration to her for so many years, and the news of her passing had affected her as though she’d known her personally. Ironic, given recent events. Jemma couldn’t have begun to imagine everything that would happen, and being at her funeral now felt just as surreal as it did emotional.

She and Fitz had come to the decision that they wanted to be there today to take the opportunity to say goodbye and honour Peggy. Having been a part of her life so many years ago and having followed her steps through history, it felt right to be there at the end.

Fitz nudged her arm and pointed subtly at a man waiting solemnly outside the church. Jemma’s heart leapt. It was Steve Rogers, Captain America. She could hardly believe that she was seeing him in person, but her surprise and excitement soon turned to overwhelming sympathy and pity. His eyes were red and swollen, and although he stood strong and tall in his smart black suit, it seemed to Jemma as though the effort it took him was almost too much. She felt for them both in that moment, for Steve and for Peggy, and guilt writhed temporarily in her stomach as she remembered choosing not to tell Peggy about how he had survived, despite it being the right thing to do. She had grown up hearing stories about Captain America and what a formidable team he and Peggy had made, as well as hearing it from Peggy’s own lips. It almost broke her heart to think how cruel fate had been to them both, but she reminded herself of what a powerful lifelong bond Peggy had forged with Daniel Sousa, who had passed away a few years ago after a full and happy life together.

“Jemma, I think it’s time.” Fitz said, as a sleek black hearse rolled up to the cathedral.

Jemma took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back. “For Peggy.”

“For Peggy.”

They slipped into the back of the cathedral, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone. The room was full of people and there was a hushed, sombre atmosphere as everyone waited for the ceremony to begin. Intricate stained-glass windows arched high up the walls and the rich wooden pews were carved with ornate symbols.

The coffin was carried slowly down the aisle, a Union Jack draped over it. Jemma caught a glimpse of Steve Rogers, clearly distraught but putting on a brave face, and tears sprung to her eyes. Fitz put an arm around her shoulder.

“I’m ok.” She whispered.

“I know.” Fitz replied, giving her a squeeze.

They listened to the hymns and the vicar speaking, and finally it was time for speeches from Peggy’s friends and family. Sharon Carter stood and positioned herself behind the podium. For a moment, Jemma worried that they wouldn’t be able to hear her from the back of the cathedral, but her voice rang out strong and clear over the whole room.

As she begun to speak, the heavy, weighted sadness that Jemma had previously felt subsided a little, and she felt herself absorbing the wonderful words about Peggy and how much people loved and admired her. She felt privileged to be there and knew they’d made the right choice.

“I asked Peggy once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage at a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either.” Sharon Carter began. “And she said, “Compromise where you can. Where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move, it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye, and say, 'No, _you_ move'”."

Jemma felt a lump in her throat at those words. She had read them before, but sitting in the beautiful cathedral and hearing them in person resonated with her deeply. She squeezed Fitz’s hand, sharing the moment with him. Sharon continued her speech.

“Peggy was asked many timed throughout her life- by myself and by countless others- what inspired and motivated her. When I was a little girl, I would sit on Aunt Peggy’s knee and she would tell me stories about her life, adapting them for a child’s vivid imagination. A particular favourite of mine was one about two guardian angels who visited my Aunt when she was young and told her the future, opened up her world and showed her what faith, courage and friendship could truly achieve. I remember soaking up her words and believing every one of them. Looking back, I understand that she must have elaborated on some advice she received from a couple of close friends to make the story more exciting for the ears of a little girl, but the magic of the story still rings true to this day.

“I don’t know who her ‘guardian angels’ were, but she spoke to me of them often and I’ll never forget the expression of love and strength on her face as she recounted her tale. Peggy was independent and brave, but she never underestimated the value of friendship and support, and of putting others before yourself, and I know that’s what she stood for throughout her whole life.”

Fitz turned to Jemma, eyes wide and mouth gaping open in surprise. “Jemma-”

“I know!!” She hissed in reply, gripping his hand.

“That was- that was _us_ … right?”

“Yes…” Jemma whispered, dazed. 

The rest of the service passed quickly, and soon, the last, graceful note of the final hymn had been sung, and people began to rise from their seats. With a jolt, Jemma realised how easily they could be spotted as the congregation filed out of the cathedral.

“We ought to go…” Jemma said softly.

“Yeah…” Fitz said distractedly. They stood up and watched as some of the mourners began to make their way to the casket at the front, standing back as others paid their respects first. For a moment, Jemma wished she could do the same- and got the impression Fitz wanted to too- but the risk of being seen was too great. They stood hand in hand for a few quiet moments, taking a final emotional look at the coffin and the photo beside it- Peggy appearing to smile right at them- before slipping out of the door.

“That was beautiful.” Jemma said once they’d left the building. They ducked around the corner by the towering cathedral walls.

“It was.” Fitz replied, giving her a little smile. “I’m glad we came.”

“Me too. I can’t believe we…” Jemma’s voice trailed off as her eyes landed on a man leaving the service. He was very old, his skin worn by age and heavily creased, and he was being pushed in a wheelchair by a younger woman. Despite his physical condition he was dressed in a smart suit and polished shoes, his thin hair was combed neatly, and he wore a series of shiny medals proudly on his chest.

“Jemma?” Fitz said, trying to pinpoint the source of her distraction.

“Fitz, I think that’s…”

“Oh…” He breathed, finally realising who Jemma was looking at.

The elderly man turned his head and suddenly caught their eye. They watched as his eyes widened, clearly speechless. Just as quickly, he recovered, and a smile played at his lips. Fitz grinned back and Jemma raised a hand in a subtle wave. They saw him shake his head and laugh to himself, before lifting a weak hand in greeting. The lady pushing his wheelchair leant down, presumably asking if he was alright, but he just waved her aside and they continued on their way. He looked back once more and winked, before turning a corner and disappearing.

Jemma gave a breathless laugh. “Jack Thompson… I had no idea he was still alive.”

“Neither did I.”

“That must have been a shock for him.”

“I guess he’s used to strange things going on by now.” Fitz replied.

“I don’t think he knew what to make of us, back in the 40s.” Jemma said. “Particularly me.”

“No.” Fitz laughed. “Two strong, independent women working in espionage in the same room? Too much for him to handle.”

“Oh, _Fitz_.” Jemma said. “I think he came to respect Peggy more than he let on. Perhaps he thought the same of us.”

“Yeah I guess so.”

People were still streaming out of the church, some in small groups, chatting quietly or wiping their eyes with handkerchiefs.

Jemma felt a little stab of sadness again. “I hope Peggy knew how much she was loved.” 

“She probably didn’t.” Fitz said. “But maybe that’s what she preferred. She didn’t do it for admiration, she did it because she believed in fighting for what was right.”

Jemma couldn’t help but smile. “Exactly.”

She sighed, and Fitz pulled her into his arms. “You ok?” He asked.

“Yes. I am.” She relaxed into his embrace, watching people leaving the cathedral. “We were so lucky to have known her.”

“I know.” Fitz replied thoughtfully. “We’ve had some bloody terrible experiences with SHIELD over the years, but this is one I’ll treasure.”

“Me too. Even more so because you were here with me.” Jemma said, twisting around to look at him.

“Makes a nice change.” Fitz said dryly.

“After all the times we’ve been separated and reunited, perhaps it’s inevitable that we find each other again.” Jemma said with a smile.

Fitz placed a kiss on the top of her head. “I’d like to think so.”

“It’ll feel strange, though, going back home now that it really is over.” Jemma said a little sadly.

“Just because she’s gone doesn’t mean it’s over.” Fitz said. “Peggy died two years ago in our timeline, yet less than a week ago we were in the 1940s, working by her side, and now we’re here, at her funeral.” 

“We did break the laws of time to do so.” Jemma pointed out.

Fitz clicked his tongue in irritation. “What I _mean_ is, memories don’t die, do they, and either does a legacy.” 

Jemma thought over his words. “That’s a nice way of thinking about it.”

“I am capable of making a good point once in a while.”

“I know you are.” Jemma replied affectionately. “I guess we should be getting home, the rest of the team will start worrying if we’re not back soon.” 

“Yeah.” Fitz said. He dug in his trouser pocket for the coordinates to put into the devices on their wrists. Once he had done his, he reached for Jemma’s hand and dialled hers too.

“I think she’d be proud if she saw what we’d achieved and how SHIELD lives on.” Jemma said. “Part of me wishes she could be here to see it, but at least she knew.”

“And now we know that she really did appreciate what we told her. We made as much of an impact on her as she did on us.” 

“You’re full of deep statements today, Mr Fitz.” Jemma said teasingly.

“Yeah, well…” He fumbled to finish his sentence. “Oh, whatever.”

Jemma laughed, and alongside the sense of nostalgia that she felt was a warm, grateful feeling of joy for all she had and all she had experienced. She twisted in Fitz’s arms so she was facing him properly and drew their faces together with a hand on the nape of his neck. “Let’s go home.” She whispered softly as their lips met.

Without needing to count out loud and with their foreheads still pressed together, they activated their teleports simultaneously, ready to face whatever the future threw at them, together, and in the name of SHIELD, always.


End file.
